Hi, my lovely. I'm Helen-with-an-a (feel free to call me H) and this is my Masterlist.
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Requests are always welcome 🩷🩷
Thank you so much if you request something - I really appreciate anyone who wants me to write an idea for them 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 If you’re unsure if I write for the player but have an idea/request for them - send it in anyway and I’ll respond if I don’t write for them 💕💕 I don’t feel comfortable writing for player x player unless there is a reader element to it (e.g., it’s a platonic story but a couple are together if that makes sense) - so please do not request something like that
Arsenal Women
Ona Batlle
Mariona Caldentey
Kyra Cooney-Cross
Viv Meidema
Misa Rodríguez
Alessia Russo
Georgia Stanway
Leah Williamson
Barça Femení
Ona Batlle
Aitana Bonmatí
Lucy Bronze
Mariona Caldentey
Cata Coll
Ingrid Engen
Patri Guijarro
Mapí León
Kika Nazareth
Alexia Putellas
Keira Walsh
Madgalena Eriksson
Lena Oberdorf
Georgia Stanway
Lucy Bronze
Niamh Charles
Jessie Fleming
Keira Walsh
Lucy Bronze
Niamh Charles
Grace Clinton
Maya Le Tissier
Alessia Russo
Georgia Stanway
Keira Walsh
Leah Williamson
Ona Batlle
Aitana Bonmatí
Mariona Caldentey
Cata Coll
Patri Guijarro
Jana Fernàndez
Mapí León
Alexia Putellas
Misa Rodríguez
If you are looking for some more stuff to read, here are some woso writers that I recommend
I hope you enjoy my little corner of the internet :)
Rather than amor going to LCL after her contract expires, maybe she returns to Arsenal?
She’s an Arsenal academy graduate that could be returning and it was also place her in London with Ale. I think seeing them being on opposing London teams facing each other in the wsl and all other national club competitions could be fun.
Hi my lovely. I’ve had a few people say this as well (as an Arsenal fan I would struggle to write long-term for a non-Arsenal reader for a WSL team loll).
I think it could be very interesting to see Amor navigate it all and also Alexia cos if Amor is still in Barça then she’s still connected to the club but if Amor goes then it’s that last little bit, yaknow.
Also it would be fun to see Ale and Amor work all of it out - would Amor mention she might want to leave? When would she do it? Would she get an offer for a Barça extension? Would she get an LCL offer? Would she entertain somewhere like the US or Germany or France? How would Alexia feel? Would there be teething issues? What about living arrangements? (Bromley and St Albans are like 1.5hr drive away)
Again, nothing is set in stone, it really depends on what’s going on at the end of the 26/27 season but a potential Arsenal homecoming is on the cards for Amor
Wait so is Alexia moving to LCL and Amor staying in Barcelona?
Hello, my lovely.
For the 26/27 season, yes, Amor is staying at Barça. After that we shall see.
For this season, I have some thoughts about:
some jealousy fics: Amor being jealous of Ale getting to be with Mapí (Ingrid comes to visit Mapí and Ale, Ingrid and Mapí hang out together and Amor is like … what about me? 😢🥺) and Ale being jealous of Amor (Amor coming to visit but then spends a load of time with Georgia, Lotte, Leah, Alessia, Ona, Mario, Lucy, Keira, etc and Ale is like 😠🥺😢 you came to see me!)
Some about the dynamics of Amor in Barça without Ale: “Team Mum” role as well as her feeling a bit down about missing Ale etc and distancing herself ‘cos she gets it in her head that Patri, Irene, Marta etc were Ale’s friends not hers
Reunions at winter break etc
Amor gets a (minor) injury to her knee and Ale freaks out
Plus some long-distance smut hehe
In my head, Amor is out of contract at the end of next season so …
If Amor does leave Barça, would she go to LCL? I think it could be cool to see the dynamic of Ale and Amor having to navigate playing in the same league but for different teams? But then what team would Amor go to?
Are you still taking beautiful girl requests? If so, this idea inspired by the recent pics alexia posted. Can you do vacation smut fic with amor taking Ale on the boat trip. Amor taking over captaining the boat which ale is very much into and wanting amor to fuck her out in the open on top deck. Amor just wants to take care of all of Ale’s needs before season starts, treating her in all ways.
Hello, my lovely. Now I know that it was a little while since those pictures came out but … it took me a minute to write this. I’ve changed it slightly but it’s still got the overall vibes of what you have asked for. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. To the others that have requested beautiful girl stuff, it is also in the works - it’s just taking me a minute. I’m sorry. Anyways I hope you enjoy it.
Spoilt (18+)
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Description: you and Alexia enjoy your boat trip
TW: Smut, 18+, Semi-public sex (on the top deck of a private boat with no one around), Dirty Talk, Oral sex (R receiving and R giving), Fingering (R giving), Masturbation and Voyeurism (R watching)
A/N: let’s pretend wooden boat decking is actually comfortable to lie on shall we?
Beautiful Girl masterlist
It was blisteringly hot. The sun hung high in the cloudless sky, pouring down a relentless golden heat that made the air shimmer above the water. The surface of the sea was almost unnaturally still, a vast expanse of blue stretching endlessly in every direction. The boat rocked gently beneath the warmth, the only movement in a world that otherwise seemed frozen in time.
Alexia was stretched out on the deck, soaking in the sun with her sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose, completely content in the quiet. She could feel the warmth of the wooden boards beneath her, the occasional breeze brushing against her skin, carrying only the faint scent of salt and summer.
Inside, you were busy with the controls, occasionally calling out something she didn’t quite understand but pretending she did anyway. The truth was, Alexia had barely been paying attention to the boat itself since you had taken over.
Nothing was around for miles. Not a cloud in the sky. Not a gull circling overhead. Not another boat cutting through the water in the distance. No signs of civilisation, no interruptions, no reminders of the outside world. You were utterly, completely alone out there. The thought should have terrified Alexia.
Normally, the idea of being so far away from everything would have made her uneasy. What if something went wrong? What if the boat had an issue? What if you needed help and there was nobody close enough to reach you? But strangely, none of those thoughts ever arrived. Not even a flicker of worry crossed her mind.
Because Alexia was too caught up in you.
She watched you move around the boat with an effortless confidence that suggested you had been doing this for years. The way you handled the controls, the way you checked everything without hesitation, the calm certainty in every movement — it was all so incredibly attractive.
Alexia had no idea you even knew how to do any of this. You had never mentioned it before. When she finally asked where you had learned, you had simply shrugged, as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
“Lotte’s family own a boat in the Netherlands,” you had explained. “I learned how to drive that one during my holidays with them, and the controls for this aren’t too different.”
That was it. No dramatic announcement. No attempt to impress her. Just another little thing about you that Alexia somehow hadn’t discovered yet.
She had stood there watching you afterwards, completely distracted. You had looked devastatingly gorgeous with the sunlight catching your skin, your hair moving slightly in the breeze as you stared out over the waves.
Alexia had fallen in love with that image of you. The calm. The confidence. The fact that you always seemed to know exactly what you were doing, even when she was certain you were about to surprise her with something new.
This holiday had been necessary. Not just wanted. Needed. The both of you had been running on empty for longer than either of you wanted to admit. Life had become a constant cycle of responsibilities, expectations and schedules. The stress of Alexia moving, the attempts to figure out what Alexia should keep in Barcelona and what to take with her. The constant decisions that needed to be made. There had been too many days where you were both exhausted, too many moments where you promised yourselves you would slow down but never actually did.
So you had decided.
You had planned everything without telling Alexia a single detail. She had tried to get information out of you countless times, but you had remained completely impossible to read.
“You’re not even going to tell me where we’re going?” she had asked.
“Nope.”
“Not even a hint?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You know I hate surprises.”
“You love surprises when they’re from me.” She had hated that you were right.
The only information you gave her was the dates and the fact that she would need her passport.
When you arrived, Alexia understood immediately why you had kept it secret.
The villa was enormous. Ridiculously enormous. The kind of place that made Alexia stop in the doorway and stare. It was far too big for just two people. There were more rooms than either of you would realistically use, a view that looked almost too perfect to be real, and every possible luxury she could imagine. Pools, plural; a private beach; a sauna; a ginormous kitchen and far too many bedrooms (each with their own full en-suite bathroom).
Her first thought had been how much it must have cost. Her second thought had been that you were absolutely insane.
She had tried to protest. “You didn’t need to do all this,” she had told you.
You had laughed, clearly already knowing she was going to say something like that.
And then you had kissed her. A kiss that made every argument she had prepared disappear instantly. By the time the thought of complaining returned, she had already decided she didn’t care nearly as much as she thought she did.
Especially not when she was standing there watching you cook dinner for her every evening, looking unfairly attractive while wearing increasingly smaller bikinis and acting as though you had no idea exactly what you were doing to her.
The entire trip had felt unreal. Like the two of you had stepped away from everything else and created your own little world.
A shadow moved across Alexia’s face, blocking the harsh sunlight. She frowned slightly before carefully opening one eye.
“Sí?” Yes she murmured, her voice soft and amused.
You stood above her, arms folded, a frown etched on your face. “You’re burning.”
Alexia immediately rolled her eyes. “I don’t burn, mi amor.” You raised an eyebrow. The look alone made her smile. “I’m Spanish,” she added, as though that explained everything. You laughed quietly.
“Skin cancer doesn’t care if you’re Spanish, beautiful girl.” You held out the bottle of sunscreen. “Put some on.”
Alexia stared at the bottle. Then at you. Then back at the bottle. She made no move to take it. Instead, she rolled her eyes and sighed before simply turned over onto her stomach, resting her chin on her arms.
“Do my back?” You shook your head slightly, already knowing she had planned that response.
Still, you knelt beside her. Your eyes moved over her carefully, taking in the warmth of the sun on her skin and the relaxed smile on her face. Alexia noticed immediately on which particular asset your attention lingered and couldn’t resist teasing you.
“See something you like?”
Your eyes flickered back to hers. “Watch it, baby.” Your voice was quiet, playful.
You sprayed the sunscreen across her back, and Alexia gave a small surprised jump at the coolness against her heated skin.
You smiled. “Too cold?”
“Un poco,” a little, she admitted, though the grin on her face suggested she was enjoying every second.
You gently rubbed the lotion into her skin, the two of you surrounded by nothing but endless water and the sound of the boat moving softly beneath you.
“Keep behaving this way,” you whispered, leaning closer, “and I’ll just have to punish you.” You swatted her arse lightly.
Alexia laughed, turning her head slightly to look at you. She should have been worried about being stranded in the middle of nowhere.
She should have been thinking about the distance from shore, the lack of people nearby, the impossibility of anyone finding you quickly if something happened.
But she wasn’t. She trusted you completely. And right then, there was nowhere else in the world she would rather be.
“I’ll be inside.” You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against her shoulder before pulling away. The gesture was gentle, almost effortless, but Alexia still felt herself smile at the affection behind it. “I’ll be back in ten with a margarita?”
Her eyes stayed closed as she relaxed into the warmth of the sun, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Por favor,” please Alexia mumbled, her voice lazy and content.
For a moment, you stayed there, not quite ready to move away. Your fingers traced lightly along her back, a teasing reminder of your presence before you playfully pinging the string of her bikini bottoms, earning a surprised laugh from her.
“Oye,” she protested, though there was no real annoyance behind it.
You only smiled, clearly pleased with yourself, before pushing yourself back onto your feet.
Alexia opened one eye, watching you stand. There was something about seeing you so comfortable, so completely at ease, that made her heart ache in the best possible way. You had spent the entire trip making sure she was relaxed, making sure she had everything she needed, and somehow you still acted as though taking care of her was the easiest thing in the world.
“Don’t take too long,” she called after you.
You glanced back over your shoulder. “Ten minutes.”
Alexia’s mind replayed your conversation on repeat. “I’ll have to punish you.” The teasing tone. The dangerous look. The way your bikini bottoms covered very little. The way your loose button up covered just enough to tease.
Without second guessing herself, Alexia flipped back over - dutifully spraying the suncream over herself but tugging on the string of her top. The fabric fell away effortlessly.
It was exactly 10 minutes later when you stepped back outside, an icy cocktail in your hand for Alexia. You drank her in - strong muscles, tanned skin, her tattoos on full show, the black and yellow bikini top draped far too artistically for it to be placed there naturally.
You cleared your throat.
Alexia smiled. “Sí?” Yes
“Your margarita, La Reina.”
Alexia groaned. “No me llames así.” Don’t call me that. Her voice sounded beautifully pitiful.
“If you want to act like a spoilt queen, you can’t be mad when I call you that.”
Alexia gasped. “I am not spoilt.” She sat up, propping herself on her elbows and narrowing her eyes at you over the top of her sunglasses.
“Oh really?” You set the glass down on the nearby table. “You aren’t?”
“No, no lo soy.” No, I’m not.
You smiled as you softly spoke. “So you haven’t had this whole trip paid for you, been strapped so good you couldn’t walk without limping the first day we were at the villa, had delicious food cooked to your exact wants whenever you wanted it, got your pussy eaten so goddamn well that your voice is still scratchy after more than 24 hours, been driven out to the middle of nowhere on a private boat, acted like a brat when I asked you to put suncream on, then tried to tease me into fucking you by taking off your top?” You let your eyes wander down to Alexia’s chest. “‘Cos that, la Reina, is called being spoilt.”
Alexia felt the fabric of her bottoms dampen as you spoke. She had been wet before, watching you captain the boat with such assurance, but now … now she was drenched and wasn’t even remotely embarrassed by it.
She swallowed, pupils blown wide. You watched as she floundered for words. “Cat got your tongue?” You said mockingly. Alexia’s chest heaved.
“C’mon, beautiful girl.” You dropped your voice teasingly. “Tell me what you want me to do.” You kissed the corner of her mouth. “There’s no one around, baby.” You gestured to the wide vast blue emptiness surrounding you.
“I could finger you,” you traced a delicate finger along her collarbone. “I could suck on your pretty little clit.” You mapped a line in between her tits. “I know you love when I do that. You cum so quickly when I suck just right and use my fingers to make you see stars.” You pinched her nipple lightly. You laughed almost cruelly as she cried out.
“Orrrr,” you drew out the word as if you were reconsidering something. “Or, I could make you watch as I finger myself.” You danced along her rib cage. Alexia felt the world get even hotter. “Brats don’t deserve to cum, do they, baby?” You traced along her hipbone. She arched into your touch. “Maybe, I could sit on your face.” You snapped at the waistband of Alexia’s ruined bottoms. “Or are you too much of a pillow princess for that?”
Alexia gasped, the sound turning into a half moan as you lowered yourself over her body. “‘M not a pillow princess.” Alexia pouted.
“No?” You kissed her deeply, reaching down to cup her over the fabric. She bucked her hips into your hand. “You’re not a pillow princess, are you, baby? You love making me cum, don’t you.” You whispered against her lips. “You love when I make a mess because of you. When I scream your name. When I cum for you.” Alexia panted, you words echoing in her head as she tried to form a single thought.
“Do you want that, baby?” You teased. “Do you want me to cum for you?” Alexia ground her hips against your hand again. “I think you do.” You laughed. “I know I said you were a spoilt little brat who likes to pretend she absolutely hates when she gets called a queen but …” your voice trailed off. “I think I’ll take my place on my throne.”
You pushed her back completely, the margarita long forgotten as you kissed her. Alexia tasted like the most perfect nectar - sweet and tender with a hint of the ocean salt on her lips. This kiss was messy; a testament to how turned on Alexia was.
Eventually, you pulled back. It took all of your will power to force yourself not to just dive straight in between Alexia’s legs. You slowly, teasingly, crawled your way up Alexia’s body.
“This ok, beautiful girl?” You asked as your knees came level with her tits. Alexia nodded eagerly, a smile blooming on her face as she drank in the sight of you. “Words.” You arched an eyebrow at her.
“Sí, sí.” Yes, yes Alexia’s gaze never left your bottoms, the fabric teasing her, hiding what she wanted more than anything. “Let me taste you, mi amor?”
Your fingers found the strings that were keeping the bows in place. With a few quick tugs, the fabric fell away, landing on Alexia’s chest. You couldn’t help but smile as Alexia’s eyes darkened.
“You gonna let me ride your tongue, beautiful girl?” Alexia nodded, her tongue darting out automatically to lick her lips.
You shuffled forward again, your pussy now in line with Alexia’s lips. She reached up, curling her arms up and resting them on your thighs. You felt her pull you down a little. You chuckled at her eagerness but complied nonetheless.
Alexia’s tongue was magic. There was no other way to describe it. She started slow, working you up, switching between gentle sucks on your clit, small little licks and broader, more expansive strokes.
You fell forward, gasping as you ground your hips against her tongue. “Fuck me. Just like that.” Your voice was breathless.
You felt the bubble begin to grow in your belly. With one hand still supporting your weight, you reached to your own chest, gripping your tit as electricity buzzed through you.
“Jesus,” you moaned, a sharp sound escaping your lips as Alexia worked her tongue in and out of you. “Fuck, baby.” You rocked in time with her movements, using her to get yourself off.
You felt the bubble grow bigger, the band tightening as lightening crackled through your body.
“Focus,” you choked out. “Focus on my clit, baby.” You swallowed, scrunching your eyes. “Be a good girl ‘n’ suck my clit, baby.”
Ever the one to please, Alexia followed your instructions, focussing her attention back on your clit.
“Fuck,” you shouted. “Keep going, baby. I’m so close, so fucking close. Oh, God.”
You felt your toes begin to curl against the wooden decking as Alexia guided you to the edge. It was coming quick and fast now, the band tightening with almost uncontrollable speed.
“Baby!”
You came with a shout. The world exploded into colour and light as a current of pleasure coursed through you.
Alexia licked you through the after shocks. You dropped your head into your arms, chest heaving as you caught your breath.
“You, my beautiful girl,” you swallowed as you swung your leg over her and moved to rest along side her. “You are far too fucking good at that.”
Alexia preened at the praise. You watched here eyes trail from yours down your face and onto your chest. Your top, that really hadn’t been covering much to begin with, had twisted, one boob fully on display whilst the other was still precariously covered (just).
In one quick move, you tugged it off, leaving yourself fully exposed to the sunshine. Thank God no one was around.
“Can I?” Alexia asked. She was already leaning forward, already licking her lips.
“Can you what?” You couldn’t help but tease. She groaned softly.
“Can I show you how …” she swallowed. “Not spoilt … I am?” Her hand found your waist to emphasise her point.
“Hm,” you sighed, whether at the feeling of Alexia’s lips now finally touching your hot skin or as an effort to continue the teasing, you weren’t to sure. “I don’t know, you’d still be getting your own way, La Reina.”
She huffed but ignored your comment as her lips worked effortlessly against your skin. You arched, pushing your bare chest against hers.
“Please, mi amor.” Her voice was muffled by your collarbone as she worked on sucking a small pink patch into your skin.
A small flicker of an idea danced through your head as Alexia settled over you, her pussy pressing up against your thigh. She rocked gently sighing as she did so.
“Using me to get off, pretty girl?” Your fingers found her waist, gripping into the bare skin as she arched. “So much for not being spoilt.”
She ignored you again. “Tan jodidamente sexy.” So fucking sexy Alexia muttered as she kissed a particularly sensitive spot.
You let her explore you body for a for more moments, getting lost in the feeling of her as you gathered your thoughts a little.
As she bit her way down your stomach, you cupped her jaw, stopping her gently and bringing her back up to your face. You kissed her gently, gathering her hair into a loose ponytail.
“If you’re so intend on showing me just how unspoilt you are,” you laughed lightly at her pouty expression. “Why don’t you show me how you get yourself off? How you touch yourself? Show me what you’re going to do when you’re in London, yeah?”
Alexia’s eyes were massive, pupils wide as she registered your words. “Pero,” But she spluttered.
“What, my beautiful girl?” You cooed. “Are you too spoilt to get yourself off? What are you going to do in London, hm?” You kissed her again. “I need to know you can take of yourself.” You tugged lightly on her hair. “I need to know you can make yourself feel so good, beautiful girl. I’ll be here, I can help you, guide you, tell you want to do. Would you like that, mi Reina? Would you like me to tell you how to touch yourself?”
Alexia gasped, “Mi amor.”
“Sí.” Yes, You reached up to kiss her again. “My pretty princess, my queen.”
You rolled gently, pushing her back until she was lying against the decking again.
You let your eyes track down her naked body.
“Let’s get these off, shall we?” You toyed with the strings that held her bottoms together. With an easy tug, they came loose, exposing every inch of her. You hummed appreciatively. “My favourite view,” you smiled as you dipped down to kiss her.
You intertwined your fingers with hers, guiding them down her body and dipping between her thighs. Alexia let her legs drop open.
With your hand still guiding herself, you gathered some of her slick. You both groaned at just how wet she was.
“Touch yourself for me.” You mumbled against her lips.
Alexia swallowed, eyes fixed on yours. You nodded, smiling encouragingly.
“Just your clit for me. Nice and slow.” You kissed the corner of her mouth. “Feel yourself.”
She did as you asked, sighing and letting her eyes slip shut. Your eyes left her face, tracing circuits across her body, lingering at her tits, the small 66 tattoo on her hip, where her hand disappeared between her legs.
“Does that feel good, mi hermosa reina?” My beautiful queen Alexia nodded, letting out a shaky breath.
“What are you thinking about, baby? Tell me, beautiful girl.” You leant down and kissed the underside of her jaw.
“Um,” she squeezed her eyes tighter for a moment. “Joder, I’m thinking about you.” Fuck
“Yeah?” You let your hand trace along her body. “Are you imagining it’s my fingers?” She groaned.
“Mi amor,” Alexia rocked her hips.
“Finger yourself, baby. Carefully,” you added. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
With a whine, Alexia followed your directions. You readjusted yourself, hooking one of your legs over hers and keeping her spread wide.
“That’s it, my love.” You kissed her cheek and moved your hand to squeeze her boob. “What are you imagining?” Alexia moaned loudly, feeling herself tighten around her fingers.
She shook her head, unable to think properly with the pleasure pulsing through her.
“Sí, mi Reina.” Yes, my queen You leant to kiss her, letting your tongue explore her mouth messily. “Dilo en español, si tienes que hacerlo.” Say it in Spanish, if you have to
Alexia nodded. “Joder,” Fuck she writhed, body bowing as another jolt of electricity surged through her. “Tus dedos. Haces que grite.” Your fingers. You making me scream.
You rocked your hips against her thighs your hips matching the pace of her fingers. God, she was stunning.
“I will, baby.” You promised, noticed that her body was twisting in an all too familiar way. “Make yourself cum and then I’ll fuck you with my fingers. I’ll suck on your pretty clit and make you feel so good, my beautiful girl. I bet your clit is huge and puffy right now. I bet you would be soaking my chin if I was eating you out.”
Alexia groaned again, this time higher pitched - a telltale sign she was close to the edge.
“C’mon, mi Reina. Imagine it’s my fingers fucking you so good.” My queen
“Sí, mi niña hermosa. Cum for me.” Yes, my beautiful girl
She shook almost violently as she came, a tidal wave of fire that swept through her body. You watched as she fucked herself through the after shocks, the once blazing fire fizzling out into smouldering embers.
“Joder,” Fuck Alexia said with a smile when she had finally could her breath. “That was intense.” You leant down, kissing her slowly and deeply.
You climbed on top of her, settling yourself between her legs. You could feel the wetness against your hipbone as she let out a wanton moan.
“You know, my beautiful girl. We are going to have to work on your dirty talk,” you teased. “What happens when you’re in London, hey? What happens if I need you? I love your voice, baby, especially when it’s all hoarse and scratchy from all your shouting.”
“No hables de Londres.” Don’t talk about London Alexia grumbled.
You smiled slowly, pushing some hair off her forehead. “Ok, my beautiful girl. London doesn’t exist.”
Alexia reached up, cupping your jaw and guiding you down to her mouth. She kissed you gently, a far cry from the mess your kisses had been earlier.
You knew she was wanting more when she started to push her hips against yours, one heel digging into your arse to provide more contact.
“Careful, sweetheart.” You laughed as you pulled away.
“No,” Alexia sassed. “I did what you asked. I made you cum. And myself.”
You arched an eyebrow. “You’re sounding like a brat right now, baby. Watch yourself.” Alexia only huffed in response. “I think you might be wanting a punishment, hey?” You reached in between your bodies to pinch at her nipple. She cried out at the feeling.
Alexia looked up at you, her eyes wide and innocent - as if she had no idea what you could be referring to. You sighed dramatically, before kissing her swiftly.
You pressed a line of kisses down her body; her jaw, her throat, the valley of her tits, her stomach.
You stopped as you settled yourself between her thighs, her legs widening to encompass your shoulders.
You looked back up at her, winking sinfully and pecking her hipbone. You took one of her hands in yours and guided it to your hair. She got the message, twisting her fingers into the roots and tugging gently. You wiggled your eyebrows playfully. She laughed quietly, the sound morphing into a quiet keen as you licked a broad stripe up her busy.
She tasted divine - sweet and salty that danced on your tongue. You hummed happily, the vibration sending a jolt through Alexia.
Alexia gasped and moaned, a symphony of sounds created just for you as you worked your tongue against her.
You did exactly as you promised her earlier, sucking delicately on her clit and using your fingers to have her eyes rolling back into her head.
Alexia was quick to fall apart this time. She was so turned on by the whole day that it felt like seconds. You watched as best you could, relying more so on your ears. She twisted and rocked in synch with your fingers. You added a second with ease, her body welcoming the additional intrusion happily. Alexia gasped as you added a third, the sting more intense but fading into increased pleasure as you worked your tongue against her clit.
She moaned and gasped, tugging on your hair as she let out a string of Catalan praises. “Que bé, mi amor. Em correré molt fort.” That’s good, mi amor. I’m going to cum so hard.
She didn’t wait for permission. Alexia went flying as an explosion of colour danced behind her eyes. She ground herself against your tongue, taking every inch of pleasure for herself.
It was longer this time. You fucked her gently through the after shocks, waiting until she let go of your hair before you pulled back.
You left a final kiss to her clit, making Alexia jolt before you moved away completely.
“So much for a punishment.” Alexia giggled as you climbed back up her body.
“Oh, baby,” you said wickedly. “This is just the beginning.” You winked dangerously. Alexia blinked, her stomach tightening as you rubbed what was meant to be a soothing pattern along her stomach. “See, whilst I love fucking you, seeing you stretch around my cock, I swear I could cum just watching you.” You swallowed her whimper with a kiss. “It’s just not a punishment, is it?” You smiled. “You see, baby.” You pushed some hair off her forehead. “You were a brat earlier. And brat’s need to be punished, don’t they?”
You waited for Alexia to nod carefully, not breaking eye contact. “So, we’re going to go below deck and shower. I’m then going to drive us back to the harbour. We’re going to go and have a nice meal and enjoy our evening.” Your fingers drifted lower teasingly.
“Then, I’m going to take you back to the villa. I’m going to have you kneel in the living room and I’m going to fuck myself on the couch. I’m going to use your favourite toy and fuck myself so good.” Alexia whined again, her thighs rubbing together at the thoughts blasting through her mind. “You can watch. You can get as close as you want. But you will not touch.” Alexia’s hips bucked.
“And then, then we’re going to go to the bedroom. I’m going to tie you up and I’m gonna put the strap on you and I’m going to ride you and make myself cum again. And you’re going to watch. You’re going to watch my tits bounce, and my pussy stretch open. And I’m gonna fuck myself so good that I make your thighs all messy. But spoilt brats like you, don’t get to touch, do they, la Reina?”
“No, mi amor,” she whispered quietly.
“Does that sound ok, my beautiful girl?” You looked at her intently, telling her silently to tell the truth.
Alexia bit her lips and smiled shyly. “Sí, mi amor.” Yes
Hello my lovelies, so the Beautiful Girl universe has expanded so much, I’ve decided to make a little cheat sheet (for myself loll) about Amor and what her life looks like at the moment. I might make one for the Long Distance universe too. My flight is also delayed some it’s something to do too loll (I just wanna be home)
Amor’s Life So Far
Alexia Putellas x Reader ; Barça Femeni x Reader ; Lionesses x Reader
Description: a summary of Amor’s professional career so far
Beautiful Girl Masterlist
Professional Life
Youth career:
Grassroots club (2002 - 2009)
Arsenal Academy (2009 - 2014)
England U15 (2010 - 2011)
England U17 (2012 - 2015)
Domestic:
Professional debut: 2014 (v Birmingham City)
First official contract: 2014
England (WSL)
Arsenal 2014 - 2018 (Loan: Everton (2015))
General position: defensive or central midfielder (centre back if needed)
Shirt number: 66
Trophies:
League Cup (2018)
Germany (FRAUEN-BUNDESLIGA)
Wolfsburg (2018 - 2021)
General position: defensive (centre back if needed)
Shirt number: 66
Trophies:
Frauen-Bundasliga (2019, 2020)
DFB Pokal (2018, 2019, 2020)
Spain (LIGA F)
Barcelona (2021 - present)
General position: defensive (centre back if needed)
Shirt number: 66
Trophies:
Liga F (2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025, 2026)
Copa de la Reina (2021, 2022, 2024, 2025, 2026)
Supercopa (2022, 2023, 2024, 2025, 2026)
UWCL (2021, 2023, 2024, 2026)
International:
Debut: June 2016 (v Serbia)
Position: defensive midfielder (6) (can play as an 8 or CB when required)
Regularly used substitute by 2018
Mix of starting xi and sub from 2019 onwards
Breakthrough into consistent starting xi and full matches under Wiegman
Tournaments:
2017 Euros (semi-finalists) - came on twice both in group stages (Scotland in ET ; Spain at 75 minutes)
2019 World Cup (semi-finalists [4th place]) - made 4 appearances [started against Scotland (subbed out at 60 mins), subbed in against Japan (around 80 mins), started against Cameroon (played the whole game), subbed in against Norway (around 60 minutes)]
2022 Euros (winners) - starting xi for each match
2023 World Cup (runner’s up) - starting xi for each match
2025 Euros (winners) - starting xi for each match
Goals for England as of start of 2026/27:
2
v Spain, 2022 Euro quarter-finals. Final score 2-1 England
v Spain, 2025 Euro final. Final score 1-1 (3-1) England.
Individual
Ballon d’Or winner 2023
Ballon d’Or runner up 2022, 2024, 2025
BBC Sports Personality of the Year 2022, 2023
Personal Life
Family
Ok relationship with parents. Visits them semi-regularly or they fly out to Barcelona. Not super attached but phone call at least once every few weeks.
Has 2 sisters and 2 brothers. Amor is 3rd out of the 5. Older Brother is a primary school teacher. Older sister is a A&E nurse. Younger brother is a classical pianist. Younger sister is currently still at university studying business but wants to be a food-based content creator
Sexuality
Recognised that she liked girls around 15 years old but didn’t feel the need to come out as she never had a potential partner
Didn’t have a “full” relationship until aged 22
Ended amicably - the man has now come out as gay too (they are still friends and sometimes comes to Amor’s matches)
Friendships
Best childhood friend: Lotte Wubben-Moy / Leah Williamson
Best friends at Lionesses: Lotte Wubben-Moy / Leah Williamson / Georgia Stanway / Alessia Russo / Ella Toone / Niamh Charles / Ellie Roebuck / Keira Walsh / Lucy Bronze
Best friends from Clubs: Alexia Putellas / Ingrid Engen / Mapí León / Patri Guijarro / Mariona Caldentey / Irene Peredes / Marta Torrejon / Alex Popp
Sooo, I’m a catalan speaker and I call cel (that’s cielo in Spanish, sky) to my friends…
Ok I love it. We’re going with Cel (short for Cielo)
Thank you so much my lovely.
Also if my Spanish/Catalan is wrong on any of the fics please nicely correct me. I do know an incredibly small amount so somewhat basic/single words are ok in Spanish and I am aware that when woman are the focus of the conversations, words more typically end in -a.
Saw your post about a nickname for Amor. As a very English individual what about Poppet? Or Pops or Poppy for short.
It’s an older English pet name but still a super cute one.
Omg I love it - can’t believe I didn’t think of that it’s literally what my parents call me.
I call everyone lovely loll but I think that maybe too similar to Amor yaknow
It’s official - Lionesses call Amor, Pop or Poppy (short for Poppet)
Now just gotta write something with them in it loll. I’m thinking either a post Euros win? Or it comes up in the Jealous Ale fic!!
Also I like Feli, but as @lyak12 pointed out it’s a German nickname for Felicitas and she didn’t like it loll so I am open to other ideas. Preferably something happy/cheery ?
In Beautiful Girl, Amor obviously gets called mi amor by Alexia.
She also has a few nicknames from others:
Ingrid calls her solskinn sunshine (after her happiness and general good vibes)
Leah calls her Squish (after her baby face teen years) (it’s a love hate relationship with it)
Lotte calls her Zus sister (because they grew up together)
But I want to write some Barça stories without Alexia (like the Team Mum idea and maybe Amor becoming first choice captain?) as well as some more Lionesses stuff (maybe a jealous Ale fic? Amor goes to London but hangs out with Lotte and Lessi and Leah and Georgia and Ale gets all pouty) but Amor needs a nickname that isn’t amor for those stories, if that makes sense.
I was thinking Feli (shortened from feliç or felicitat happy / happiness in Catalan) for Barça? But that wouldn’t work for the Lionesses.
And I’m kind of struggling for a Lionesses nickname.
She wouldn’t be called it all the time but it’s more for ease of writing where I can have someone call her name or tell someone to ask ___ Y’know?
If anyone has suggestions or ideas it would be greatly appreciated.
missing the nice smut from the beautiful girl series, any inspiration at the moment?
Hello, my lovely. Funny you should say that actually. I am literally just writing a Beautiful Girl smut called Captain O’ Captain. I’m hoping for it to be out on Tuesday? Maybe? No guarantees though.
But, sneak peak below the cut:
TWs: smut, 18+, dirty talk
“C’mon, beautiful girl.” You dropped your voice teasingly. “Tell me what you want me to do.” You kissed the corner of her mouth. “There’s no one around, baby.” You gestured to the wide vast blue emptiness surrounding you.
“I could finger you,” you traced a delicate finger along her collarbone. “I could suck on your pretty little clit.” You mapped a line in between her tits. “I know you love when I do that. You cum so quickly when I suck just right and use my fingers to make you see stars.” You pinched her nipple lightly. You laughed almost cruelly as she cried out.
“Orrrr,” you drew out the word as if you were reconsidering something. “Or, I could make you watch as I finger myself.” You danced along her rib cage. Alexia felt the world get even hotter. “Brats don’t deserve to cum, do they, baby?” You traced along her hipbone. “Maybe, I could sit on your face.” You snapped at the waistband of Alexia’s ruined bottoms. “Or are you too much of a pillow princess for that?”
Alexia gasped, the sound turning into a half moan as you lowered yourself over her body. “‘M not a pillow princess.” Alexia pouted.
“No?” You kissed her deeply, reaching down to cup her over the fabric. She bucked her hips into your hand. “You’re not a pillow princess, are you, baby? You love making me cum, don’t you.” You whispered against her lips. “You love when I make a mess because of you. When I scream your name. When I cum for you.” Alexia panted, you words echoing in her head as she tried to form a single thought.
“Do you want that, baby?” You teased. “Do you want me to cum for you?” Alexia ground her hips against your hand again. “I think you do.” You laughed. “I know I said you were a spoilt little brat who likes to pretend she absolutely hates when she gets called a queen but …” your voice trailed off. “I think I’ll take my place on my throne.”
Hi, my lovelies. Here is another part of the Kiss Me series. Each one is with a different player and about a different type of kiss. I hope you enjoy.
I Missed You
Lucy Bronze x Reader
Description: Lucy comes to pick you up from the airport.
Kiss Me masterlist
Heathrow was mercifully quiet. Whether it was the time or the particular day you weren’t too sure, but you weren’t complaining that the lines were significantly shorter than you had been expecting. The usual hum of chaos felt muted, like someone had turned the volume down on the world. Suitcases still rattled over tiled floors, announcements still echoed overhead, but everything seemed softer somehow, less urgent. It gave you space to breathe, to think (though thinking was exactly what you’d been trying not to do for most of the flight).
You watched on your map as the little blue dot that signified you moved closer and closer to the green pinprick. Each step felt lighter than the last. You hadn’t realised just how tightly wound you’d been until now, until the distance between you and her shrank into mere metres.
Lucy was exactly where you expected her to be, underneath the Arrivals sign, leaning against the pillar, two coffees in a cardboard holder. She looked so … normal. Like she hadn’t spent days existing in your absence, like she hadn’t been reduced to a voice through your phone speaker and a name lighting up your screen. She was real, solid, right there.
You physically felt weight lift from your shoulders. Weight you didn’t even know was there until it was gone. Your chest loosened, your breathing deepened, and for a moment you just stood there, taking her in. The familiar slope of her shoulders, the way her hair fell slightly messier than usual, like she’d run her hands through it too many times. She looked up, as if sensing you before she even saw you, and when her eyes found yours, everything else blurred into the background.
“Hey, pretty girl.” Lucy’s voice was soft and sweet. You melted.
“Hello, Luce.”
Lucy threw one arm around your shoulders, tucking you into her side like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you’d never been apart at all. The coffee carrier shifted slightly in her other hand, but she didn’t seem to care.
She smelled like cherries and that smell that was uniquely her; warm and comforting and so deeply familiar it made something in your chest ache. You leaned into it without thinking, pressing closer, grounding yourself in her presence.
“Missed you,” you muttered, lips brushing against the fabric of her hoodie.
Her arm tightened around you, just slightly, but enough for you to notice. Enough for you to feel it.
“How was the flight?” she asked when you pulled back, her eyes scanning your face like she was checking for something. Tiredness, maybe, or reassurance that you were really here.
“Ok,” you shrugged. “There was a service dog on the flight and it reminded me of Narla.” You pouted, the image of the small white dog flashing in your mind, her soft fur, the way she would curl up against you without asking.
Lucy’s expression softened instantly. “She’ll be so excited to see you.” She smiled, her eyes locked on your lips like she was trying not to be too obvious about it.
“Not as excited as I am.”
“Sometimes I think you miss her more than you miss me.”
“Eh, don’t take it personally.” You teased, the corner of your mouth lifting.
Lucy narrowed her eyes at you, though there was no real heat behind it. “Kiss me and I’ll forget all about it.”
You didn’t need to be told twice.
Her lips were soft and gentle against your own, warm and familiar in a way that made your stomach flip despite yourself. The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, it was something slower, something deliberate. Like she was reminding herself of you, reacquainting herself with something she’d missed just as much as you had.
Your hand came up instinctively, fingers brushing against the side of her neck, feeling the steady pulse beneath her skin. She leaned into it, just slightly, her breath catching for a fraction of a second before settling again.
When you pulled back, neither of you moved very far. Your foreheads hovered close, your noses almost brushing.
“Hi,” she murmured, softer this time.
“Hi.”
There was a moment where neither of you said anything. You just looked at each other, taking in the details you couldn’t quite capture over video calls. The tiny freckle near her jaw, the faint crease between her brows, the way her eyes crinkled just slightly when she smiled.
Lucy cleared her throat eventually, though she didn’t step away. “I got you your usual,” she said, lifting the coffee carrier slightly.
“You’re actually perfect.”
“I know.”
You huffed out a quiet laugh, taking one of the cups from her. The warmth seeped into your hands instantly, grounding you further. Everything about this moment felt like slipping back into something you hadn’t realised you’d been missing so deeply.
“Come on,” she nudged gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”
You fell into step beside her easily, your shoulder brushing against hers as you walked. The airport didn’t seem quite as quiet anymore, but it didn’t matter. Your focus had narrowed entirely to her; to the way her hand occasionally bumped yours, like she was debating whether to take it or not.
You made the decision for her.
Your fingers slipped into hers, threading together naturally, like they’d been waiting to do it all day. She glanced down briefly, a small smile tugging at her lips before she squeezed your hand.
“Missed this,” she admitted.
“Yeah?” you glanced at her.
“Yeah.” She paused for a second. “Missed you.”
The sincerity in her voice made something in your chest tighten, in a good way. You squeezed her hand back.
“Good,” you said lightly. “Because I missed you more.”
“That’s definitely not true.”
“It is actually. I kept count.”
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, here I am. Still your favourite person.”
She didn’t argue with that. Instead, she just glanced at you again, her expression softening in that way that always made your stomach flip.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “You are.”
The walk to the car felt shorter than it should have, like time had decided to speed up just to spite you. One moment you were weaving through the terminal, the next you were stepping out into the cool air, the faint smell of rain lingering.
Lucy’s car was parked not too far away. She unlocked it with a quick click, dropping her coffee into the holder before moving to open the boot for your bag.
“I’ve got it,” you protested half-heartedly.
“I know,” she said, already lifting it out of your hands anyway. “But let me.”
You watched her for a moment, the easy way she moved, the familiarity of it all. It settled something in you, something that had been restless for days.
When she closed the boot, she looked at you again, tilting her head slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” you said, though your smile gave you away.
She stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her again. “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Obviously not,” she said, a hint of a grin tugging at her lips. “I am very attractive.”
You rolled your eyes, but your hand came up to tug lightly at the sleeve of her hoodie anyway. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You leaned in, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. Shorter this time, but no less warm.
“Gladly.”
She hummed softly against your mouth before pulling back, her hand briefly brushing against your cheek. “Come on,” she said again, softer this time. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
The word settled somewhere deep in your chest, warm and steady. And as you slid into the passenger seat, watching her circle around to the driver’s side, you realised that for the first time in a while, everything felt exactly where it was supposed to be.
Omg Ellie kildunne is my latest obsession so Woso x Ellie kildunne is elite
Hi my lovelies. So I love this and I also love Ellie Kildunne loll. I hope you enjoy
Fun and Games
Ellie Kildunne x Williamson!Reader ; Leah Williamson x sister!Reader
Description: you and your girlfriend decide it would be fun to play a little game on your sister.
“And this is Ellie,” Leah said, extending her hand out to show Ellie off like she was presenting some stranger instead of one of the most dangerous temptations you’d ever met.
You looked up, locking eyes with the curly-haired woman. Those warm, brown eyes widened slightly before she smiled - soft, knowing, already amused.
“You’ve met before, right?” Leah added, oblivious as always when she thought she was being perceptive.
“Once or twice,” you agreed, giggling under your breath as Ellie extended her hand to you. You took it, trying not to react (failing miserably) as she squeezed your fingers three times.The signal.
Her signal. Her I missed you.
“Bub, c’mon, it’ll be fun.” Ellie’s voice had been syrupy sweet in your ear, her arms around your waist as she tried to convince you to join in on the little plan she and Leah had cooked up.
You couldn’t deny it, the idea of being in a room with both of them, pretending like nothing was happening, watching Ellie steal glances and smirks at you, well, that did sound fun in a twisted way.
“To be fair, I have no idea how she hasn’t clocked on yet,” you’d muttered, leaning into Ellie. You weren’t exactly private with the fact you were dating someone. Your sister knew you were seeing a woman. Knew she was relatively known. Knew you wanted to keep it quiet until you were both ready.
But honestly? You’d assumed Leah would have shown more interest. Maybe asked a question beyond “Are they nice?” or “Do they treat you well?” The classic older sister stuff.
Instead, Leah had treated the whole thing like you’d told her you’d bought a new pair of trainers.
“So, is that a yes?” Ellie had asked then, pressing a lazy kiss to your collarbone.
“Who am I to deny my pretty girl, hm?” you’d answered, brushing a curl from her forehead before she squealed and wrapped you tighter in her arms.
You’d laughed, helpless for her.
Now here you were, trapped in the world’s most boring, stuffy awards-hall, watching your sister schmooze and charm every important person in arm’s reach while you sipped a drink and attempted to stay awake.
The room was hot, overcrowded, and didn’t have nearly enough chairs, probably some metaphor about women’s sports and resources if you cared enough to pay attention. But mostly, you were just annoyed you weren’t horizontal on the sofa, Ellie starfished across your body while some stupid show played unwatched in the background.
Instead, you’d been dragged along by Leah, who was collecting yet another award. You loved her, obviously. But love didn’t make formal events any less mind-numbing.
“So,” Leah said casually, which immediately meant she was prying. “How’s your day been?”
“I spent my day with you, Le. You know how my day’s been.” You raised an eyebrow, sipping your drink pointedly.
“I also know you’ve been glued to your phone. And-”
“Hello again.” Ellie’s soft Yorkshire accent cut in, a melodic interruption that practically vibrated down your spine.
“Hi.” You bit back a smile as the familiar warm hand ghosted across your lower back.
“I was going to ask if you want a drink, but I can see you already have one.” Ellie’s attempt at subtle flirting was laughably transparent. You raised your eyebrow, gave her a slow once-over and drained your drink in one go.
“I could do for another,” you said lightly, tipping your head as you looked at her.
Your gaze scanned along her body - shameless, approving. She was wearing the simple black suit she’d shown you earlier in the week, the one you’d spent far too long running your hands over, admiring the tailoring on her in a way that had nothing to do with fashion.
“Bub,” Ellie giggled later, her head dropping back when you pressed your lips along her neck.
“Hmmm?” you murmured into her warm skin, your teeth grazing lightly.
She let out another breathy laugh as your hands traced the lines of her blazer. “I take it you like it?”
“Like it?” You pulled back to look at her properly. “Try love.”
Your hand came up to cup her jaw, holding her still as you kissed her hard enough that she made a tiny, needy sound you’d replay in your mind for days.
She looked incredible. The blazer, the matching trousers, the cropped top beneath that showed the upper lines of her abs. She looked strong, confident, devastatingly attractive.
“Shame I won’t get to touch what’s mine on the actual night,” you whispered, brushing another quick kiss at the corner of her mouth.
She rolled her eyes, though it did little to hide her smile before she pulled you in again.
“What are you doing?” Leah hissed suddenly in your ear, grabbing your elbow with big-sister authority and yanking you away from the bar.
You stumbled, laughing under your breath. It had been an hour or so now, and you’d stopped bothering to hide anything. A wandering hand here, a wink there, a comment that definitely would’ve been flagged by a film rating board.
“What do you mean?” you asked, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face.
“You’re outwardly flirting with Ellie.”
“Am I?”
Your perfected innocent look was unmatched. Being the youngest Williamson always helped - you’d mastered the puppy-dog eyes long ago.
“Yes!” Leah whisper-snapped.
“Oh.” You shrugged, giving her a tiny smile, because winding up your sister was practically a sport.
“Oh?” Leah shook her head, running her hand through her hair like she couldn’t quite believe you. “You’re flirting. With someone I know has a girlfriend. And as someone with a girlfriend, I don’t think you should be doing that.”
You shrugged again because you knew exactly how to push every button she had.
Behind her, Ellie looked delighted, like she’d been waiting weeks for this precise moment.
“Hey, s-Ellie?” you called over Leah’s shoulder, her name tasting strange when you said it. “Can I get your number?”
“Sure.” Ellie’s grin widened behind Leah, her expression an absolute menace.
Leah spun around, glaring between you both. “Seriously?”
Ellie blinked, masking her smirk. “What? She asked nicely.”
Leah stared her down. “You have a girlfriend.”
“I do,” Ellie said cheerfully. “A very jealous one. Super beautiful. You’d like her.”
You coughed into your hand to hide your laugh.
Leah pinched the bridge of her nose. “You two are impossible.”
Ellie raised her brows, feigning innocence. “What’d I do?”
“You … both of you … stop being weird,” Leah ordered, then pointed a finger at you. “And stop trying to steal someone’s girlfriend.”
You hummed, leaning casually against the wall. “Good thing I’m not stealing her then.”
Leah narrowed her eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Ellie bit her bottom lip, looking like she was fighting for her life not to explode into laughter.
“It means,” you said slowly, savoring the dramatic pause, “that maybe your information is a little out of date.”
Leah frowned. “What? No. I literally just saw Ellie with her girlfriend last month. Fans took pictures!”
Ellie winced. “About that…”
“That was me,” you cut in.
Silence.
Leah blinked once. Then twice.Then again, as if her brain needed to reboot.
“That-w-no-what?” Her voice pitched up half an octave. “That’s not-no. She had different hair.”
“I cut it,” you reminded her.
“She had different clothes!”
“Elle steals your clothes all the time,” you pointed out.
“And she wasn’t … you weren’t… oh my god.” Leah dragged her hands down her face. “The two of you were standing right next to each other. You think I don’t know what my own sister looks like?”
Ellie shrugged. “In your defense, she had a hat on. And sunglasses.”
“And a scarf, and my jacket,” you added.
“WHY?” Leah practically yelped.
“We weren’t official yet,” Ellie said with a sheepish grin. “Didn’t want the cameras catching anything too soon.”
“So you disguised her, badly, so you could kiss in public like a pair of teenagers?”
“Worked, didn’t it?” you said.
Leah stared between you both again, eyes wide with horrified understanding. “I cannot believe this. I introduced you two like you’d never met!”
Ellie snorted. “You did look very proud of yourself.”
“Oh my GOD.” Leah threw her hands up. “I’m leaving. I’m going to get a drink. And maybe scream.”
She stormed off, muttering something about needing new sisters and friends who weren’t deranged.
As soon as she was gone, Ellie pressed against your side, her shoulder bumping yours. “You’re evil.”
“Me?” You tilted your head innocently. “You’re the one who suggested we mess with her.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually flirt with me in front of her!”
“You didn’t seem to mind.”
She grinned. “I really didn’t.”
You leaned into her, lowering your voice. “You have a terrible poker face.”
“I know.” Ellie looped her pinky around yours, subtle and hidden between your bodies. “But I’m very good at loving you.”
Your breath caught, not the first time she’d said it, but the first time she said it while grinning like you hung the stars.
You nudged her playfully. “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to get mushy.”
“Please do. I love when you get mushy.” She rocked onto her heels, excited. “Now come on. Leah’s already suffered enough. Let’s go rescue her.”
You laughed, letting her tug you back toward the crowd.
Leah spotted you two approaching and groaned dramatically. “No. Absolutely not. Stay away.”
You melted instantly. “Leeeaaaah,” you whined.
“Don’t whine at me,” Leah said, pointing at her like a stern teacher. “You’re in trouble.”
☆ Summary: Being Barça's newest signing is the easy part. The real challenge is letting someone get close. With Alexia, things quickly turn physical, and while you have no problem taking control, letting yourself be seen is a different story. But Alexia isn't used to being kept at a distance.
☆ Word Count: 6.6k
☆ Warnings: Ale's very babygirl • reader is grumpy • golden retriever and black cat vibes • Ale's on her period • literally just vibes no plot.
☆ A/n: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!! <3333 This is, once again, a direct continuation from where we left off.
Part 6 here
The day had been horrible.
Mostly because it had begun so well and unravelled so badly, and even though it was only five in the afternoon, you were certain it wouldn't get any better from here.
Cuddling with Alexia in the morning had been wonderful, even if it had terrified you a little bit. Having sex with her was amazing; that part wasn't the problem at all, even if it had made you both late to breakfast. Watching Alexia shower afterwards had been honestly a divine experience, even if you were in a rush and couldn't fully enjoy the view.
But then came the soreness, the ibuprofen, and that rather cryptic phrase she had said in the hotel room, the one you still hadn't quite worked out what to do with.
"You have to decide, torito. Your rules. If they still apply or not."
You sighed, shifting against the brick wall of the stadium park. You hadn't known how to process her words then, and you certainly didn't now. Instead, you had done what you always did and disappeared into your own head.
The air was cold around you, while the setting sun washed the Sevilla sky in shades of pink and orange. You took a deep breath, but Alexia filled your thoughts the same way the ocean filled the lungs of unsuspecting swimmers – burning from the inside out, starving every cell of oxygen before leaving them to die an agonising death.
The asphyxiating overthinking was precisely why you had needed thirty minutes to change after the final whistle. You had needed space away from the mistake you had made on the pitch, away from Alexia snapping at you, away from Patri and Kika's gentleness, away from the dangerous voice screaming in your head that Alexia detested you now.
And look where that logic had got you... Getting called out for letting Kika hug you, watching Alexia admit her jealousy with trembling lips before she kissed the top of your head and walked away, leaving you alone.
You wondered if she had done that to process everything that had happened.
"I do notice," her voice echoed in your brain. "When you're not there."
You closed your eyes, but instead of seeing Alexia, you saw the same image behind your eyelids for what felt like the sixteenth or seventeenth time since the final whistle.
The stupid (tiny!) gap you left right in front of the box. The Sevilla girl running. The goal that sealed the defeat.
Now, as you stood in the stadium car park watching a mechanic inspect the underside of the team bus, the scoreboard that no longer existed anywhere except the back of your mind still glowed one-nil. The old voice that you had spent months gradually learning to argue with had found its footing again after the match, and it showed no sign of leaving.
You don't belong at a club like this. The voice was so calm and certain and fucking annoying. Today just reminded everyone.
You knew it wasn't true. You knew the voice in your head wasn't always right, that you shouldn't trust it, but it didn't matter. The thought had already dug its roots in deep, and it was going to require an exhausting amount of mental energy to pull it back out, perhaps days.
A loud and metallic sound snapped you back to the reality of the car park. You looked up just in time to see the mechanic lift an important-looking piece of metal that you were pretty sure wasn't meant to come out of the engine… but not that you were an expert in buses or anything.
The bus back to Barcelona had broken down right outside of the stadium after everyone had already climbed aboard. The plan had been to head back home right after the game; that was why everyone had packed their bags, but it seemed like a change of plans would be necessary.
Marta, sitting near the front of the bus, had overheard the driver complaining about something and passed the news to Caro, who leaned across the aisle to tell Esmee. Within about thirty seconds, the information had spread through the entire bus in a broken-telephone manner. Which meant everyone had to haul their (heavy!) belongings back off the bus and out into the cool evening despite having spent ninety minutes running and fighting on the pitch. Unsurprisingly, everyone was tired and not particularly pleased with the situation.
"We broke down?" Ona asked, a childlike pout forming on her face.
"We broke down," Marta confirmed.
"Yeah, of course we did," you muttered under your breath. This occurrence was so fitting for a day like today, almost poetic.
Pere appeared from the front of the bus, phone pressed to his ear, wearing the expression of a man who had already mentally checked out for the day hours ago and was operating on nothing but professional obligation. He held up a hand for quiet, finished his call, and looked over at the team.
"The bus is staying here tonight," he said. "And so are we. They can't fix it until tomorrow morning, so we have to go back to the hotel."
A beat of silence fell over the team.
"So… the hotel here in Sevilla," Vicky asked slowly, processing the news. "The one we just checked out of?"
"Yes."
"And we're staying another night…?" She continued
"Yes."
"That's good, actually," Cata chimed in. "I forgot my good shoes in the hotel gym..."
"This whole trip is so horrible," Syd sighed. Her headphones were resting around her neck, spilling out a song far too melancholy for this situation.
"Maybe it's your fault," Clara said in a bored voice, her arms crossed over her chest. "Your horoscope was predicting all kinds of bad things, and we still agreed to let you come with us."
"Agree to let me come?!" Sydney shot back, exasperated. "It's not like I can just skip a match because my sun sign happens to be in a terrible position!"
"Yeah, yeah, but–"
"Enough," Alexia's voice cut through the air. "Both of you. Quiet."
They fell instantly quiet, and so did everyone else.
"Oh," Vicky said in a hushed whisper, nudging Kika's side. "Capi's mad.
And so… they waited. And waited.
The mechanic was still beneath the broken-down bus, poking and prodding while everyone waited for ubers. Needless to say, the whole squad was scattered in various forms of shared misery.
Cata was sitting on her travel bag with her headphones in, looking like she very much did not want to be bothered. The younger girls, meanwhile, had clustered around Alexia, the way they always did when something went wrong on a game day.
It was almost endearing from a distance.
Alexia was visibly grumpy, yet as though drawn by some collective gravitational pull, the kids had gathered around her anyway. Aicha was perched on the low wall beside her, Vicky on her other side, Clara nearby, and Syd hovered just behind.
All of them were talking nonstop and overlapping each other, clearly discussing anything and everything unrelated to football just to distract themselves, or maybe distract Alexia. They didn't like it when she was in one of her so-called moods.
At one point, Alexia muttered something short and dry, and the girls immediately laughed. Alexia looked faintly pained by how easily she had made them laugh when she was trying so hard to be unavailable and intimidating.
You watched as she pressed her face briefly into her hands before looking up again. She was, you realised, trying very hard to project the image of a captain who was perfectly fine, the untouchable leader who certainly wasn't eating herself alive over the defeat.
Patri was right; Alexia was extremely competitive, far too hard on herself.
A few meters away, Kika, Patri and Esmee were leaning against the side of the bus, sharing a bag of salty snacks.
"Look at her," Kika whispered, putting a chip into her mouth and motioning toward Alexia with her chin. "Ale looks like a stressed-out mother duck whose ducklings won't stop misbehaving."
"Do not let her hear you say that," Patri said teasingly. "She's five seconds away from making them run drills around the car park just to get some peace of mind."
Esmee shrugged. "That's totally on her, though. I bet she can't sleep until she's convinced every new blaugrana kid feels welcome… and then they grow attached to her."
"Like leeches," Kika said, watching Vicky shove a phone right in Alexia's face while Clara rested her head on Alexia's shoulder, eating a bag of biscuits and letting crumbs fall all over the captain's shirt.
"Like leeches," Patri agreed. "Very annoying leeches."
"She's miserable," Esmee added as Syd set up her phone to film a tiktok, making sure Alexia was unmistakably right in the middle of the frame. The catalan rolled her eyes, shushing Syd and shooing the phone away.
"Nah," Kika countered. "She's right where she wants to be."
Then their attention shifted to you instead.
Patri held up a hand to wave you over. Urgh, more socialisation, but you went over anyway.
"Hi," you said drily, though you didn't hesitate to accept the chips Patri offered.
"Still upset?" Esmee asked nonchalantly.
"No," you lied.
Patri chuckled. "Yeah, right. You look like a puppy that's just been kicked out of its home, but of course you aren't upset."
"We'll recover from the loss, amiga!" Kika said cheerfully. "Don't worry about it–"
"I'm not upset about the game," you interrupted. It was a half-truth.
"What are you upset about, then?" Esmee pressed.
"Nothing," you said quickly, instantly regretting opening your mouth.
Patri and Kika shared a smirk "Let me guess," Patri began. "Problems in paradise?"
You glared at her. "There is no problem."
"Oh, but there is a paradise?" Patri teased back.
"This is exactly why I don't talk to you people," you grumbled, taking another chip.
"You are awfully private," Kika said dramatically, rolling her eyes. "That's soo rude! I literally tell people everything."
"That's kind of a problem on its own," Esmee murmured.
"Don't try to defend her," Kika shot back. "You two are way too alike. Why did we only find out you were dating on your three-month anniversary?!"
"Because I wasn't dating any of you," Esmee deadpanned.
Kika nudged Patri. "Can you help me out here?"
Patri chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Chica, you won't get any information out of Y/n or Esmee by asking. You have to observe."
You stood there stone-faced as they continued to analyse your supposed love life as if you weren't standing right in front of them. You took that as a clue to step back from their circle.
Your eyes drifted across the car park back to Alexia. You looked away before she could catch you staring, though deep down, a part of you wanted her to see you. You were used to hiding; it felt safe, but with Alexia, you wanted to be perceived.
Yet she didn't look up; she turned to her phone instead.
It is a joy to be hidden and a disaster not to be found.
Her uber notification must have come through, because she checked her phone and tapped the screen (rather aggressively) before looking around the car park. Her warm, honey-coloured eyes found yours.
She stepped away from her ducklings, who were practically breathing down her neck and walked the small distance between you.
"Hey," Alexia murmured, keeping her voice down so only you could hear as she held up her phone to show the app. "You're coming with me, right?"
You looked at the screen, then glanced past her. The kids were already lingering a few steps behind her, pretending they didn't care while obviously waiting for her to decide who was getting in her uber.
They were praying for a spot in the car. Cute. They really did admire Alexia like an older sister.
"I don't think there's space," you said, gesturing to the situation with a tilt of your chin.
Alexia glanced over her shoulder quickly, assessed the kids, and turned back to you.
"We'll meet at the hotel then," she said simply.
And that was it.
She turned, and without a single word, the girls simply followed, falling into step behind her in a loose cluster, their voices already rising in volume around her. Aicha said something that made two of them laugh, and even Alexia smiled a bit. She could pretend to be grumpy, but those girls were her ultimate weakness; she could never keep it up for long.
You looked down at your own phone; your uber was four minutes away.
Another night in the hotel room, you thought. Another night with Alexia… maybe?
You shook your head, trying to clear your mind. You shouldn't be thinking about this right now.
She seemed alright with you again – she had just told you she would meet you at the hotel, right? But what exactly does "meeting at the hotel" mean? Sharing a room again? Or going to separate rooms? Had the plumbing issue been fixed? Should you be asking to stay with Kika instead? No, better not; Alexia would have an aneurysm… So, maybe Esmee?
Patri couldn't fit in your uber ride, so she stayed behind to catch the next one with Cata and Pina. That left you sandwiched between Kika and Esmee in the backseat for the entire twenty-three-minute drive, during which Kika could not, for the life of her, shut the hell up.
By the time the car finally pulled up outside of the hotel, Kika had told so, soo many terrible jokes, and Esmee had rolled her eyes at every single one of them.
When you walked into the hotel, the first thing you noticed was how much quieter the lobby was compared to that morning. A few of your teammates were visible through the restaurant window: Clara and Aicha at a table near the back, Aitana sitting with Pajor right beside them, having an early dinner from the look of it.
You continued to walk until you saw her.
Alexia was sitting in one of the leather armchairs near the check-in desk; her travel bag was at her feet and her phone in her hand. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her pink lips were set in a pout. She looked composed, but tired. You wanted to cover her face in soft kisses, to smooth out the exhaustion on her brow.
Alexia looked up the moment you stepped through the doors. Without saying a word, she stood, picked up her bag, and crossed the lobby toward you.
"Vamos?" she said simply. [let's go]
"I have to check in again," you said, looking at the front desk.
"I've already done it for both of us," she said casually. "Come on."
"Oh, alright… yeah," you said, caught slightly off guard by how seamlessly she had handled it. "Thank you."
You followed her to the lift, and neither of you acknowledged the fact that she had been sitting in the lobby waiting for you when she could have already been upstairs beneath a scalding shower.
She had waited for you, you thought.
The lift was empty when it arrived at the lobby. You stepped inside, and Alexia pressed the button. You watched the doors close and stood beside her. The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable; it was just filled with exhaustion. The complete "emotional rollercoaster" of the day had drained you both.
The floor numbers climbed and seemingly did not stop doing so. You were tired. You wanted to sleep, but your brain was already spiralling, waiting for the conversation about the room assignments to come.
Were you sharing again? Well, it was kind of obvious you were…. Unless she had only checked you both in because it was easier? Should you ask for a key to a separate room? Something in your gut told you Alexia would be upset if you did so.
Before your thoughts could settle, her hand brushed against yours. She didn't take it; her fingertips simply rested against your knuckles for a second.
You loved her warmth, loved how soft her skin felt against you. An ache settled in your bones; it said you didn't deserve to touch her today; you didn't deserve her softness. Still, you didn't pull away.
When the doors opened on your floor. Alexia withdrew her hand and stepped out first. She walked down the hallway with familiarity, stopping in front of the exact same door from this morning. Alexia didn't make a big deal out of it; she just held the door open for you as if sharing space again was the most natural thing in the world.
You dropped your bag beside the bed and sat on the edge of the soft, queen-size mattress. And then, before your rational mind could even register the room, the walls, the mattress beneath you, or Alexia's proximity, the match began again.
It replayed behind your eyelids over and over. You saw every angle of it, every bad decision you made.
Alexia was standing in the middle of the room. She was never one to sit when she was thinking too much about something, so instead, she began moving around the room back and forth, moving from one wall to the other like a broken pendulum.
"We were too passive after halftime," she said, her voice tight with frustration. "Don't you think?"
"I was out of position," you said to the floor.
"We just weren't pressing them enough in the second half… we weren't coordinated. Everyone was doing their own thing… I should have stepped up sooner and reorganised us."
"I read the run wrong," you muttered, ignoring her analysis to focus on your flaw. "I saw the forward making her move, and I waited a second too long… I never wait too long; I don't know what happened!"
Alexia kept pacing, making you dizzy. "We gave them too much space; they had their whole wings to themselves! What was I thinking when I told Esmee to focus on the centre?"
You ignored Alexia right back, locked in your own mind loop… Neither of you was listening to the other. Alexia kept pacing and pacing while you hadn't even taken your shoes off yet.
"Honestly, it's all my fault," you said bitterly "If I had been better positioned, a bit further to the left, that ball might never have reached Cata."
That finally made Alexia stop pacing. She turned to look down at you. "You can't blame yourself for–"
"I watched it back during the drive here," you said. "I was the only one between her and Cata–"
"Which means nine other players on that pitch – myself included – failed before she ever got that close to the goal." Alexia countered.
"But I am the full-back, Ale." Your voice came out flat. "If they score, that's on me. That's my job. That's what I'm here to do, you know? To defend, or well, try to. The game is on me."
Something softened in Alexia's expression, and suddenly she didn't look like a captain trying to comfort a teammate. She looked like… You weren't quite ready to name what she looked like.
"Tori, I was too hard on you," she said, her voice gentle. "I'm sorry."
"No, Ale, it was a fair point, okay?" you said, deflecting immediately. "You don't have to be sorry for–"
"Don't say I was just doing my job," she interrupted. "My job doesn't mean being rude to you."
You tilted your head, analysing her. "You correct other players too," you pointed out. "You don't tell them you are sorry."
She seemed almost confused by her own actions. "I-I, well, I always corrected them, yes, but I'm not half as harsh with them as I was with you…I'm not apologising for the note," she said slowly. "I'm apologising for how I said it. There's a difference."
You opened your mouth, but then closed it. The room felt awfully quiet. You wanted to scream into its void just to break the tension.
"I'm sorry," she repeated.
"I know," you muttered. "Me too."
She looked at the ceiling, then looked at the floor, rubbing her neck.
"I'm the defending midfielder," she said, beginning to vent, "If we don't score, if the press falls apart, if we can't hold possession… that's on me. The whole game is on me," she added, parroting your exact words back.
"Great," you deadpanned. "So we were both terrible at our job, huh?"
"Apparently."
"Wonderful," you said. "Really brilliant. Excellent day's work from both of us."
"Remarkable."
You got up from the mattress and walked past her, going to the window and pulling it open. You breathed in the evening air; it was such lovely weather for such a disaster of a day. When you turned around a few moments later, Alexia still hadn't sat down. Her arms were crossed.
"I had it," she muttered, pacing again. "We could have the game under control; we knew their pattern… I knew their-"
"You can't track every run perfectly for ninety minutes-" you tried to reason.
"I almost always do," she rolled her eyes.
"Almost is the word of the day," you said. "Honestly, we were all rubbish today. Stop putting it all on yourself."
"Stop being reasonable," she grumbled. "I just want to be annoyed."
"Then be annoyed."
"I am."
She let herself fall to the bed with a sigh. You wandered over and dropped down beside her, both of you staring up at the cream ceiling.
"So, we both played badly, we're stuck in this hotel for another night because the bus decided to break down, and it has been a genuinely horrible day."
"Yes," you said simply.
"Good," she said, her side pressing slightly against yours. "So glad we agree on one thing."
"...Were we really just arguing about who failed more?" she continued.
"Yes."
Alexia was about to respond when a knock interrupted her.
Before either of you could even process it, the latch clicked, and the door swung open. In mere seconds, the two of you scrambled up, and by the time the door swung open, you were standing very stiffly near the foot of the bed while Alexia had somehow ended up leaning against the small wooden desk as if she had been there all along doing God knows what.
Vicky stood in the doorway, taking in the room with her sharp, brown eyes.
"Irene sent me," Vicky announced, completely unfazed by the sudden intrusion she just made, "She said if you don't come down to get something to eat now, Capi, the dining room is going to close,e and you'll have to survive on the vending machine–"
Vicky cut herself off as her eyes shifted from Alexia over to you. She blinked once, her face shining with mischief.
"--and apparently you too, Y/n," Vicky added, her tone dripping with amusement. "I didn't realise you two were sharing a room again. I thought the plumbing issue got fixed?"
You could feel your face burning under her gaze, your defensive instinct coming up all at once.
Alexia stared at her, her captain's face locked in place. "Does Irene sending you mean you can just walk into people's rooms, Vicky?"
"Well… I knocked," she said innocently. "So that's not on me."
"Oh, you knocked," Alexia said sarcastically. "Does that mean you can just open the door unannounced?"
"It wasn't locked!" Vicky argued, as if not really understanding what she did was wrong.
"Next time it will be. You can't just walk in."
Vicky's eyes moved around the room again with (very exaggerated) innocence. She took everything in more slowly this time.
She noticed the slightly rumpled duvet and the way both your bags were scattered around. Vicky looked at you, then Alexia, before locking eyes with you, her absolute favourite target.
"Right," Vicky said, "Sorry. Well, I'm also here because I'm genuinely upset about the match. I need emotional support. I need my captain… por favor…? Or are you too busy with Y/n? Am I interrupting something crucial? Oh! Maybe Y/n need emotional support as well?"
"Go find Patri," Alexia cut in, pointing a finger toward the corridor before you could snap at Vicky. Now."
"Patri's not–"
"Patri is exactly as much a captain as I am right now. I'm off duty," Alexia interrupted. "Go down to have some dinner. Eat real food. Talk to Patri. Close the door behind you."
"What about your dinner?" Vicky pressed, taking one last look between the two of you. "Aren't you guys coming down?"
Alexia held the bridge of her nose. "Go."
Vicky lingered, just long enough to make it clear she was leaving on her own terms before pulling the door shut behind her. Her footsteps retreated down the corridor.
Then, a moment later, her voice came bright and happy, echoing through the corridor. "Hey Serra, guess who Capi's in her room with–"
You sat very still, already dreading tomorrow morning's breakfast, when the kids would (undoubtedly) ask whether Vicky had really caught the two of you sharing a room again.
"Vicky knows," you said flatly.
"She doesn't know anything," Alexia replied.
You looked at her. "Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you are trying to make me feel better?"
"I want to make you feel better," Alexia deadpanned.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Ugh."
"It's okay," Alexia said, trying to offer you a smile. "She won't tell anyone."
You gave her a side eye. "She literally just shouted down the hallway about us to Clara."
"Yeah, but Clara won't say anything."
You groaned again. "Honestly… whatever. Patri knows. Esmee knows. Kika knows. Now Vicky and Serra know…"
"It's not that bad," Alexia countered.
"Do you want them to know about us? Knowing how they are going to tease us?"
Alexia shrugged. "You just have to glare at them, and then they stop. Problem solved."
"I can't glare at people! I get flustered and embarrassed! I'm not half as intimidating as you are."
"I'll intimidate them for you," she smiled as if life was all unicorns and rainbows.
"Oh, you're so kind," you said, rolling your eyes.
When Alexia spoke again, her voice had dropped all of its captain's authority.
"You know what… we should cuddle," she said seriously, which did not match her proposition. "It's been way too long of a day for us."
You studied her up and down. She looked soft and tired, and you needed her to want to touch you.
"Mhmm… okay," you agreed. "Come here."
Alexia shifted a little closer until her shoulder brushed yours. She was testing the waters, seeing if it was really okay. Physical intimacy between you was a rare currency when sex wasn't involved, after all.
After a brief moment, Alexia finally curled into your side, tucking her face against your collarbone as though she had been wanting to do it all day. You stayed very still, adjusting to her weight and her warmth.
"I really didn't mean to snap at you," she said, her voice muffled
"I know," you said, "I'm serious, Ale. You can stop apologising; it's alright."
"It's not, though," she propped herself up on one elbow so she could look at you. "I won't do it again, vale?"
You chuckled. She was cute. "I hope you don't… you sounded a bit intimidating."
Alexia blushed, which was not the response you had expected from a two-time Ballon d'Or winner. You looked up at her, your mind slipping back into its familiar habit of picking every little thing apart.
You found yourself thinking about the part of you that had been waiting, somewhere deep and private, for her to finally see you fail.
About how the correction on the pitch had landed like something you had been half-expecting ever since you had arrived in Barcelona, ever since you met Alexia. Somewhere in a tired, masochistic corner of your brain, there had almost been a sense of relief.
Finally, there it is. Here is the flaw that was always bound to surface.
There was something oddly bittersweet when people were mad or upset at you. Something strangely comforting about disappointing people. How fucked up have you chilhood been for you to feel comfort in that?
It felt safe to know you had made a mistake, because it meant people would stop expecting things from you. They would know you were incompetent, bad and imperfect... except Alexia wasn't looking at you as if you were any of those things right now. She wasn't looking at you like that at all.
Weird.
You didn't want to talk to her about it, though.
You kept those messy thoughts to yourself. Instead, you let yourself stay with her, cuddling, sharing very sweet, absent-minded kisses that barely lasted longer than half a second. But right as you were beginning to melt into her body, to relax, Alexia made a strange face and pulled away.
"Hey, what–" Before you could ask what was wrong, she disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door, murmuring about how she was going to be right back.
You frowned and sat on the bed, listening to the sound of running water. Should you go up and knock on the door? What had happened? You chose to stay put and let Alexia do her thing.
While you waited, your thoughts drifted back to the book you had been reading earlier that week – Madonna in a fur coat – when the water stopped, and the bathroom door opened.
Alexia stepped out, looking, somehow, even more grumpy than when she had gone in. She stood in the doorway and looked at you miserably.
"I got my period," she announced flatly. "I wasn't due for three days. This day needs to end. I'm serious."
You blinked up at her, sitting up a little as you abandoned Sabahattin Ali's universe. "Oh… your peri–"
"I think you're messing with my hormones," she added, crossing her arms. "I haven't been this early in years!"
You pressed your lips together.
"...I'm sorry? I didn't mean to mess with your menstrual cycle."
She pouted at you. "You don't sound sincere at all."
"I'm sorry I don't sound sincere," you said. You couldn't help but think she was rather adorable like this, all pouty. "Do you need anything? Want me to get your bag or–"
"I don't have anything with me, tori. Nada " She gestured helplessly at herself, as if to illustrate the full extent of the situation. "I don't have pads, tampons, nothing! We were supposed to be back in Barcelona by now. I didn't plan for this to happen!"
"Okay, baby, hold on," you said, walking to your own bag. "I'm supposed to have stuff here somewhere, just–" You unzipped your bag and started rummaging through it, searching for a pad, and while on it, you found medicine, one of your little notebooks, the good pen you had been looking for ages, and then, finally, you pulled out the pad. It was a bit creased, but it would do its job.
You walked over and held it out to her.
"I've got a few more if you need them," you said. "They are in the internal left pocket of my bag… and sorry, I don't have any tampons. I can go out for them if you want?"
"No, this is good enough, thank you," she muttered, the pout still holding strong. "I'm just frustrated! I'm literally thirty-two, I should know by now to always carry tampons with me wherever I go…"
"Ah, come on, don't do that, Ale", you said gently. "It came three days early; you are allowed to be caught off guard, don't stress over it, yeah? Just get whatever you need from my bag. I'm sure the girls can help you out, too."
She nodded. "Thank you, torito." Then she walked back into the bathroom.
When she came back out, you closed the distance between you without thinking. Your hands settled on her waist, and you felt her go less rigid beneath your touch, the tension in her shoulders releasing one layer at a time. She pressed herself back into you, her head on your shoulder.
"Feeling a little better?" you asked.
"No, I'm devastated," She pouted into your neck. "And it's all your fault, tori."
"Devastated?" You teased her "That's a big word."
"You are not helping."
"Sorry… let me try again. How is it my fault you got your period?" you said, your voice sweet. "That doesn't make sense, sweetheart."
"You make my body go all wrong," she said.
"I do?"
"Uhum."
Your thumb traced slow circles against her waist as you gently guided the two of you back onto the bed. "You make my mind go all wrong. Guess we're even, then?"
Alexia was quiet for a moment, but then she spoke. "So… I forgive you, and you forgive me?" she murmured. "For messing each other up?"
"Yes, bebé," you whispered, kissing her cheek. "I forgive you, and you forgive me. You are such a good martyr," you said fondly. "Has anyone told you that?"
"Only when I'm on my period," she mumbled.
"Hm," you chuckled.
Alexia's breathing had slowed against your shoulder. You were waiting for the request, almost certain she was about to send you out for an emergency trip to buy her whatever she might need.
"...I'm waiting," you said finally.
"Mhmm… for what?" she murmured.
"For you to send me out for a heat pad. Or ibuprofen. Chocolate. That's usually how this goes. Isn't it?"
She lifted her head enough to look at you; she was a bit tired, her eyelids were heavy. "I don't eat chocolate on weekdays. And I don't usually need heating pads."
You looked at her. "Ah, you don't get cramps?"
"I do sometimes, but they are very, very mild," she said. "I barely feel anything most of the time."
"Oh. That's great."
"Yeah, but I do get light headaches sometimes," she continued. "Barça's doctor told me it's because of low iron, so sometimes I have to take some tablets."
"Poor baby," you murmured, pressing another kiss to her temple.
"I'm waiting too," Alexia said after a moment, nosing at your skin.
"For what?"
"For you to tell me about your period." She said, then she moved like a clingy cat and pressed her cheek against yours. "I just told you about mine; it's only fair, sí?"
"You think it's that easy to get information out of me, capi?" You smirked, teasingly.
"No," she said, her hand drifting lazily up and down your side before coming to rest against your hipbone, and then she tucked her face against your chest. "That's why I'm asking nicely. Please. Be nice to me. I'm bleeding. I'm in pain."
"You just told me you're barely cramping."
"Yes," she said with great dignity, "but you said I was a good martyr. So this is me being a good martyr… Por favor? Tell me?"
You exhaled and looked at the ceiling, giving what she wanted. "Fine, Putellas. I get bad periods.
… Crickets.
"Okay, and…? That's all you're giving me?"
"Well, yes. That's it. I bleed a lot and have bad cramps. The absolute worst mood you've ever seen, too… I'm not exactly a joy to be around."
"Hmm," she sounded a bit suspicious. "Really? I've never noticed any of it, and we've known each other for what? A year?"
"I think I'm just very good at hiding it," you said proudly, but alexia didn't match your energy.
Alexia looked up at you and didn't smile. "You say that like it's a good thing."
You blushed. "I thought it was."
"I don't think it is."
"Oh." You didn't really expect that answer.
Was there one thing you did in life right?
"I mean… I've never noticed you getting more sensitive around that time, or more emotional." She tilted her head slightly against your shoulder.
"I would have thought I'd notice. I should've, shouldn't I?" She furrowed. "I pay attention to you… I even know when Vicky is on hers because she cries at literally everything, and she doesn't even have to tell me."
"Well, I don't get sensitive," you explained. "So that must be the reason why you never noticed. I don't really cry much."
"No?"
"No, I just get a bit angry, impatient. That kind of stuff."
"Angry how?" She asked.
Alexia had apparently decided that tonight was the night she was going to ask every single question she had been collecting for months.
"Just… well, just angry." You said with a small shrug, searching for the right scientific term and coming up with nothing. "Everything irritates me, and tiny things suddenly feel much more urgent than they actually are. That kind of anger."
Alexia didn't say anything immediately, which meant she was thinking about it properly, turning it over in her head.
"So right now," she said slowly. "With the game, and the broken bus, and all of it… You aren't–"
"I'm not on my period," you clarified with a smile. "Unfortunately, this is just me on my good day."
She hummed. "So if you were on your period–"
"Today would have been exponentially worse," you confirmed. "Yes."
"Hmmm… " She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I'll make a note."
"Please don't."
"I'm your captain," she said teasingly. "I have to know these things for scheduling purposes."
"You don't schedule anything. Ever. That is literally not your job."
"As captain, I have a great deal of influence when it comes to scheduling," she replied proudly.
"Oh," you said flatly. "What do you do? Glare at people until they move training?"
"Do you always have to be this sarcastic?"
"Sorry."
"Anyway… tell me next time when you are due," she said matter-of-factly. "Actually… I have a better idea! We should share a period tracking app!"
"Absolutely not." You shook your head immediately. "Nope."
"But-"
"I will leave this bed right now," you threatened. "At once."
In response, she tightened her arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her. Alexia's breathing was even out against your shoulder again, before her voice cut through the silence.
"You know what? Since we're in a talking mood…"
"You're in a talking mood," you interrupted her. "I'm definitely not."
"...you haven't talked about your ex since that night," she continued, ignoring you.
Your stomach turned at that. "You're awfully curious tonight."
"I like getting to know people."
"Funny of you to say that," you said. "I'm pretty sure everyone on the team would tell me they don't remember the last time you played personal quiz with them."
"Okay," she said, without missing a beat. "Maybe I like getting to know you."
You smiled despite yourself, which she definitely felt against your shoulder.
"Oh, are you into me or something?" You teased. "That's so gay of you."
"You're changing the subject," she rolled her eyes, blushing. "Again."
"I'm trying to," you admitted.
"Don't try." She moved, settling more firmly against your body, as if to make clear she wasn't going anywhere. "Let me propose an exercise, torito. One where you don't overthink every single word before it leaves your mouth."
You pouted. "I don't think my brain works like that."
"You can try."
You sighed in defeat. "I'll tell you about my ex if you tell me about yours."
Alexia chuckled. "That's not how it works. I always talk to you about myself, sí? I've already done my part. You're the one who drops a bomb in my lap every two weeks and then goes completely silent."
You rolled your eyes.
She won.
A/n: Hiii!! I hope you guys liked this chapter! I had lots of fun writing it hehehe; they are just so endearing and fucked up in the head!! I personally love how Ale goes all captain with the kids, and then she melts with Tori.
Come talk with me about it!! Talking about fic really helps me with motivation and ideas, hehe
☆ Summary: Being Barça's newest signing is the easy part. The real challenge is letting someone get close. With Alexia, things quickly turn physical, and while you have no problem taking control, letting yourself be seen is a different story. But Alexia isn't used to being kept at a distance.
☆ Word Count: 6.3k
☆ Warnings: angst!!! yayyyyyy • reader makes a mistake that costs the team the win • Alexia doesn't handle it well • neither does reader • Patri and Kika being great teammates • jealous Alexia • big girls having big girls conversations • they are lesbians, so a lot of apologies.
☆ A/n: hope you guys like it <3 I was able to post everything together, thankfully. Since this is a direct continuation of the other parts, I think you guys will enjoy it more if you re-read the other parts here
Every player took comfort in believing they were capable of keeping control of a match. That their endless hours of training could somehow matter more than the endless hours of training from the other team; that their sacrifices carried more weight in the game than those on the opposite side.
People, as you had come to realise, all shared the same contradiction: humans were social creatures, dependent on one another to survive, and yet always eager to dissociate themselves from the group at the first opportunity. To be different. And not only that, but better.
You often wondered why this type of trait was chosen by evolution. What kind of survival value could it possibly offer?
The pitch was a good place for those kinds of thoughts, and, if you were feeling ambitious enough, you could drift into sociological questions too. Did people shape sports, or did sports shape people? Was football influenced by politics, or had football itself become political? You could think of at least five examples where the latter was true.
As it was clear, your mind was absolutely everywhere but on the ball at your feet, and not because the game was easy that you, as one of the defenders, were simply chilling beside Cata in the box. Quite the opposite, actually. Turns out, the discomfort you had experienced on the bus still clung stubbornly to your skin, and what made you feel better when you were mentally tired? Thinking. As controversial as it sounded.
Thinking was, admittedly, becoming a problem. A big one.
Maybe you should learn other ways to keep your mind grounded, preferably ones that don't risk losing your team a match.
It happened at the exact mark of 80 minutes, the big screen was shining bright with the number just as a brunette girl from Sevilla broke through the midfield with great acceleration that you did not remember seeing during analysis, despite having spent days studying her movements.
As both disastrous and splendid things in football , it all happened in the space of mere seconds. The girl's run wasn't catastrophic by any means; she didn't bring anyone down, the team was simply in a bad position, leaving great gaps, one of those gaps being you.
The striker made her run past Patri and Ona, and you read her heading in your direction. You saw it coming, and you also took the time to analyse the rotation of her foot to see whether she was setting up to shoot or not. Your body had learned to speak the language of the game before your brain could fully take in the afferent information and convert it into signals down your spine. Maybe that's why your movement was a bit clumsy, perhaps a bit careless, too.
The girl was faster than the tapes suggested; she was also faster right now than what she had been in the first half. You moved, of course you did, but it wasn't enough because you were a few meters out of place, and that mere gap was all she needed.
The ball went in, and the fans at the stadium all roared in unison. It was always a good sensation for the home team to score; right now, you hated their happiness and how it meant that you had failed.
You stood exactly where you were, your boots glued to the patch of yellowish, dry grass, staring at the empty space on the turf where you were supposed to be. Cata spat on the grass before slamming her gloves into the pitch. But milliseconds later, she was already up, already resetting, clapping her hands for the team, shouting that there was still time to turn the score around. She yelled your name, telling you to do something, but you barely registered her words. Then, her eyes moved, looking right over your shoulder, and you knew someone was approaching.
Around you, the game was reassembling itself (or trying to). Sevilla was still celebrating, taking advantage of a referee who was giving them too much time. Most of your teammates were going back into position. You could hear Pere's voice from the sideline in the tone you'd learned to recognise as controlled disappointment. Well… he was not the only one disappointed.
Then Alexia was beside you.
She hadn't run to get to you; you hadn't even seen her move. She was just suddenly there, appearing in your peripheral vision without any kind of warning. Her voice, when it came, was low, controlled, and (painfully) professional. You hated that tone on her; she was too soft to be throwing such cold words at you.
"Adjust your line," she snapped. She wasn't even looking at you; her lips were curled and her eyebrows drawn together. "You have been sitting way too deep since halftime. I've been shouting at you to get back into position, but it's like you decided to tune me out completely."
You hadn't listened to her; that much was entirely your fault. You had been too busy thinking about football and politics. You felt your cheek turn red in shame.
"She had all that space because you handed it to her on a plate," She continued in the same tone. "You're more disciplined than that. Do better."
Alexia wasn't screaming the words at you, but there was an edge in her voice that just usually wasn't there at all.
Your teammates, watching from a few meters away, would have taken it for nothing more than a captain making a tactical correction, but you were far too familiar with her cadence. You had spent months learning every gradient of it: the version she used in interviews and press conferences, the one in team meetings, the one that came out soft and private in the dark of her room. This was the version she used when her competitive side took over, and she decided that cold efficiency was the best response. It was a version she had never once used on you until now.
You were ready to argue, not against her but with her, because she was right, after all. But Alexia didn't give you a single second to reply; her words kept shooting from her mouth so fast she barely stopped to draw breath.
"You have been half a step behind the entire second half," she cut in, each word carefully enunciated, determined to make sure it landed. "I could see it from midfield. You were a step behind the whole time, and you didn't even bother to adjust!"
"We specifically talked about their number fourteen," she went on, stepping closer to you. "We spent days on the tape. We even said–"
"I know what we said."
"Well, it clearly didn't stick, did it?"
She didn't wait for you to answer. She was already turning her back on you to get back into position.
You could have pointed out that Ona had been slow to close her down as well, that the gap left wasn't entirely on you. But the thought didn't take root. Alexia was right, and looking for someone to share the blame with felt worse than the goal itself.
A few seconds later, you felt a warm hand settle on your shoulder, making you realise just how tight your trapezius muscles had been.
"Just take a deep breath, tía," Cata said, looking at you with a mix of pity and sympathy.
Maybe Alexia's reaction wasn't as private as you had thought. You realised Patri was looking at you too, her eyes darting between you and Alexia. She looked at you with sympathy, and at Alexia with a quiet reprimand, though you knew Patri wouldn't actually say anything to her, not right now at least. You hoped she wouldn't. In the end, Alexia was right.
You nodded at Cata, forced a small smile, reset your position and said nothing else. A sudden surge of bittersweet relief washed over you, and that was the strange thing. It was as though your subconscious had been waiting for this exact moment. A hidden part of you had been waiting for Alexia to finally see you get something wrong.
She had been watching you for months with that kind of attention that felt like belief, and belief, in your experience, had a habit of expiring. She had always looked at you as if searching for the good and finding it; even if you showed her the flawed parts of you, the bad and the ugly, she brushed them aside as if dismissing the sight with a shooing motion of her hand, wanting to see only the best in you.
But now? Now she had seen you fail. And thank god she had. She was mad, disappointed, and you couldn't help but feel like it had taken her long enough. You were glad she had seen it, and hated yourself for feeling that way. You were the reason your team was behind, the reason Cata lost a clean sheet. The reason, you would soon find out, that you lost.
You played the rest of the game with focus and precision. Every ball that came near you was met with a good, clean first touch. You closed down every striker. You had been half a meter too slow once, and your body made sure it wouldn't happen again.
And it didn't happen again, but it didn't matter, because the final whistle blew and the scoreboard was still one-nil. Alexia was already walking toward the tunnel before you even had a chance to look for her. You stood on the pitch a moment longer than necessary, sitting with the bitterness of defeat, letting it rest deep in your bones.
Maybe if you let yourself remember exactly how this felt, you would never make that mistake again.
You watched the tunnel Alexia had just disappeared into. She always waited to walk into the tunnel with you. She didn't this time; she disappeared into the dark without looking back, and you weren't sure if that was meant to sting or not. You weren't sure it mattered.
A hand came down on your shoulder, making you lose your balance slightly. It was Cata again; she stepped beside you, her white gloves tucked beneath her left arm.
"Come on, amiga," she murmured. "Let's go to the locker room. Yeah?"
You nodded, but let her walk ahead. As you finally turned towards the tunnel, a Sevilla player, Laura, approached you. You had played together for a few months back in Manchester; you weren't exactly friends back then, but it was nice to see a familiar face.
"Good game, Y/n," Laura smiled, her cheeks still a deep pink from all the running.
"Yeah… it could be better for us, though," you gave her a sad smile and patted her on the arm. "But you were very good. I bet you gave Kika a good headache."
You left after making empty promises of meeting for coffee once the season schedule allowed. Near the entrance of the tunnel, Patri was leaning against the plastic wall. Her chocolate eyes caught you as you approached; she took a step in to meet you.
"I don't know what Ale said to you back there," Patri started, her eyes everywhere but on you, "but don't read too much into it, okay?"
You tilted your head slightly, your defensive instinct flaring up. You were feeling oddly cornered, though you were careful not to let it show on your face.
"Alexia was right about every word she said," you replied simply.
"That's not what I mean," Patri muttered. "She's impossible after we lose, give her a few hours–"
"She doesn't need a few hours," you interrupted. "She has every right to be angry right now."
Patri tilted her head in return, studying you for a moment. "You are upset," she said, reading right through you. You hated it. "Come here–" she stepped closer, but you took a step back.
"It's okay. I'm okay. I-I just messed it up," you continued before she could speak or move any closer. "It's expected of Alexia to be mad. She's the captain. So if a player switches off and it costs us a goal, she's supposed to call them out, hold people accountable."
Patri sighed and clicked her tongue. "I'm not saying she shouldn't have corrected you. What I am saying is that it sounds like you are treating one mistake as if it rewrites the whole season."
"It did rewrite the whole season, though," you said quietly, furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance. "Now we need to beat Real Madrid if we want any breathing room! If we thought the next game against Valencia would be easy... well, now it's all ruined! We are going to have to--"
"We can lose three consecutive games and still be at the top," Patri said, deadpan. "You and Alexia… you've got this little miss-perfect thing going on. Mistakes happen. It's normal. It's just part of the game. Now take a breath and move on."
"I know it's part of the game. And I'm not Miss Perfect. I never said I was," you said, any ambition of not sounding defensive crumbling right at your feet. "I get stuff wrong all the time. Today it just happened to cost us points."
"Yeah… and that's completely okay. No need to beat yourself up over it," Patri said in a shrug. "You shouldn't be this upset. The loss is not on you. You were good... You are good. Maybe there was a small mistake, but I'm sure it won't happen again."
You stopped, looking at Patri as if she were speaking in an alien language. You gestured around, at the dark tunnel, at the scoreboard still shining, at the way the staff were all quietly packing up the equipment.
"It's clearly not okay," You said, completely ignoring everything else Patri had said. "We lost."
"Losing isn't the end of the world," Patri said softly in the same voice she used on the younger players. Great, now she was going to think you were childish.
"It is for me." You frowned, looking down. "
Patri shook her head, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she clicked her tongue once more. "Tsk, tsk. You and Alexia," she said, stepping toward the locker room door. "Cut from the exact same cloth, huh?"
"We're not–"
"Yes, you are," she cut you off "Awfully competitive. Even worse at forgiving yourselves."
You felt a slight surge of annoyance. "Did you give this whole speech to Alexia, too? Or did you reserve it strictly for me?"
Patri smirked, her hand already reaching for the old door handle. "Oh, I wasn't nearly as gentle with Alexia as I was with you."
She pushed the locker room door and walked inside, leaving you standing alone in the hallway for a minute too long.
You stood outside for a few minutes. Taking some deep breaths. Trying to ignore how it stung when Alexia shouted and when she left the pitch alone. You tried to ignore how you felt like an awful player.
Did you even deserve to be in a club like Barcelona?
Of one thing you were sure: Patri was one good co-captain.
The locker room was quiet; the girls were all unusually careful around one another. The room wasn't completely silent per se. There were still familiar sounds here and there: boots being dropped onto the white, dusty, concrete floor, someone's phone buzzing incessantly against a wooden bench, Maria, one of the staff members, talking on the phone outside. But all the conversations that existed were held in a very low voice.
Pere said what he needed to say, which wasn't much, and left almost immediately after. You thought it was a bit rude of him to leave like that, but deep down you knew it was the right call. It was better to be absent than risk losing his head. The players, or more specifically you, were already beating themselves up enough; no need for external help to do that.
Patri and Alexia were standing near the far corner of the room. They were talking rapidly and in a low tone, their heads bent close together, and their body language was rigid. Alexia stood with her arms crossed, her lips in a slight pout, while Patri was doing most of the talking; she was gesturing a lot, as she always did. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but the sight alone told you everything you needed to know: clearly Patri was finishing the conversation she had started in the tunnel.
Vicky chose that exact moment to start playing an upbeat Beyoncé song from her phone. The music lasted approximately fifteen seconds before both Alexia and Patri turned to her.
"Now it's not the time, Vicky," they said in terrifying synchrony, shooting the kid a look that could terrify anyone.
"Vale, vale," Vicky grimaced, hitting the pause button. "Perdón! It's not like I was throwing confetti around! Chill out! I just wanted to end this funeral mood we're all in."
"Clearly it was a bad choice," Clara muttered at her side, a pout on her face. She looked more sad because of the song's interruption than because of the defeat itself.
You, meanwhile, were sitting in front of the locker with your boots still on. They were too tight, you realised, digging into your foot, and you knew you should loosen up the laces, but you didn't. Maybe you deserved to feel this bit of discomfort.
Before you could let yourself go with your thoughts, Kika stepped right beside you on the bench. She looked down at you, wearing that characteristic mix of kindness and mischief you could only ever find in her face.
"I know you've got some deep emotional issues going on when it comes to affection," Kika said, wrapping her arm around your shoulders into a side hug, "but I'm going to hug you anyway. I think you need it, sim?"
You smiled and didn't push her away, choosing to lean into the hug and welcome the pressure of her arms. You even allowed yourself to rest your head against her side. "Do I look that bad that you thought I needed a pity hug?"
"Pity hug?" Kika gasped dramatically, squeezing your shoulders again. "Excuse you? This is a comforting hug. Preventive maintenance, if you want to call it."
"So… I look like I need preventative maintenance?"
"Yes, you look pretty bad," Kika said without missing a beat. "Mostly because you've been letting me hug you for more than two seconds. That's… deeply concerning."
"Thank you."
"For the hug?" she asked, looking down at you.
"No," you said. "For humbling me."
She rolled her eyes and laughed. You were glad you could make someone laugh today.
You were, although, even happier that the joke had shifted the focus away from your actual feelings. You didn't like that kind of attention on you; you didn't like that Kika had picked up on just how deeply the loss had affected you.
"Patri told me you weren't feeling your best," Kika said. "So I came to rescue you."
"Oh, you're working with a sad footballer in your free time, I see?" you teased her.
"Oh, shut up," Kika smiled. "I'm trying to be nice."
But the playfulness slipped from Kika's face a moment later. You looked up at her, and she (very subtly) tilted her chin towards the other side of the room. Your eyes followed her gaze, landing on Alexia, who was looking right at the two of you.
Alexia's face tightened, her whole jaw locking almost imperceptibly. Then, as if just suddenly realising she had been caught staring, she looked away and forced her attention back to Patri.
Patri, also not subtly at all, raised her eyebrows at Alexia before looking at you and Kika. She tilted her head, as if she was a cat analysing if she could squeeze in a small cardboard box or not, before turning back to Alexia with a terrifying knowing smirk.
Then, as if nothing had happened, the two of them resumed talking.
Kika cleared her throat at your side, a playful smirk on her lips "I don't think Capi liked me hugging her favourite full-back."
You tried to fight the pink tinting your cheeks, but it was a lost battle. "Shut up," you murmured embarrassedly. "Don't go around starting rumours."
Kika leaned in, her voice conspiratorial. "We don't need to start anything; you two give us more than enough evidence on your own."
Alexia chose that moment to step toward the centre of the room, bringing all the attention to her.
Kika stepped to the side and watched Alexia, not with her mischievous expression, but with the expression of someone ready to listen to their captain.
"Alright, let's gather up," Alexia called out. "Let's talk about the game."
Naturally, all the girls stopped what they were doing. Irene put her phone away, Marta and Caro halted their conversation in the far corner of the room, and all the younger kids immediately paid attention to the place Alexia stood.
Whenever a defeat could be traced back to one obvious mistake, something that could be pinned on a single moment or a single player, Alexia had a way of addressing it that made the person not feel bad, or, better yet, a way that kept the person from drowning in guilt. She never pretended it hadn't happened, and she never sugar-coated it either. Alexia just said a few words that made the weight of the mistake get distributed across the team rather than left crushing a single pair of shoulders.
Today, for the first time, you were that player. The one who got it wrong. The one responsible for the awful atmosphere in the locker room.
You kept your eyes on your boots when Alexia started speaking. She went on to talk about the second half, about the adjustments that hadn't come, and about how she could have done something about it from the midfield – because Alexia had a habit of taking responsibility for things that didn't belong to her alone. Maybe you two shared that habit; Alexia just carried it with a lot more grace than you ever managed.
Alexia's voice was even and measured; she spoke with certainty, so as not to let anyone misinterpret her true intent. She was always so, so careful with words. Not with you, though, not when you were alone. Not when you shared a mattress with her.
You listened to her without really absorbing the words; you were only half there, too busy letting the guilt eat you alive.
You should have done better.
You should have done better.
Be better.
By the time the voice in your head had quieted a bit, Alexia had stopped talking, forcing you to look up at her frame.
When you did, you saw her looking around the room: Ona sitting with her head down, Aicha staring blankly at the wall, and the three or four players whose minds were somewhere else entirely.
The attentiveness Alexia had needed from them wasn't there. She rolled her eyes, and despite yourself, your mind insisted on supplying the adjective beautiful to them. She then made the (wise) decision to stop pushing against something the team wasn't ready to receive yet. Maybe the loss was too fresh.
You chuckled to yourself.
You could see her mind turning as she tried to solve this locker room issue. Not knowing how to handle a loss was a problem only a few clubs had to endure. Was Alexia thinking of suggesting mandatory psychological sessions for everyone in the team? It would be a ridiculously Alexia thing to do. But maybe mandatory therapy was not a very smart move. People had to want to talk, right?
Back in the reality of the locker room, Alexia let out a puff of air.
"… Let's just get some rest for tonight," she said, her shoulders dropping slightly. She was tired and didn't want to hide it anymore. "It's clear our heads aren't in the right place. We'll look at the tape tomorrow, when we are rested and feeling like ourselves again."
You nodded automatically, and only then did you realise Alexia was still looking at you. Her eyes stayed on you for a second too long, and that was it.
You looked back at your boots. The room began to loosen after that. People started moving, undressing, the sound of the showers multiplying minute by minute. Patri was having a conversation with Pajor while Vicky peeled off her kit, murmuring about how damp it was and how maddening it was to wash a kit when you hadn't won. You could sympathise with that, but truly, defenders' kit got dirty no matter how the game went. You were well used to being covered in dirt, and grass and other people's sweat,
On a normal day you had a system for changing in the locker room: you found small reasons to delay, waiting until the room had thinned out enough that no one was left – no one except Alexia. It was a system that worked, mostly. Alexia knew about it, and sometimes she stayed, almost to provide cover.
But today Alexia was on the other side of the room, her back turned to you, and you found yourself wondering if the usual arrangement still applied.
You couldn't imagine Alexia wanted to deal with you any longer than necessary, and the last thing you wanted was to give her another reason to be frustrated with you. So you simply picked up your bag and left the locker room quietly, not really wanting to bring attention to yourself or to the reason why you were sneaking out.
The corridor outside was empty, and the one beyond it was too. You followed the signposts along dirty walls towards the bathrooms until the signs stopped making sense altogether, ending up in a part of the stadium that smelled like old paint, a place clearly not designed with visiting teams (or anyone, really) in mind.
You found a single-stall bathroom behind a door that required some physical force to open, then you changed quickly and spent a lot of minutes trying to find your way back. And by a lot, you meant a lot. The stadium was bigger than it had looked from the pitch.
You needed to go back to the locker room, but it felt like you were trapped in the minotaur's labyrinth.
You took one wrong corridor, and then another, and by the time you found the right one, your phone showed four missed messages from the team group chat about the bus. Kika had asked where you were; Vicky had tagged you in the messages saying everyone was just waiting on you. You sighed; you were already calculating how many minutes behind schedule you had pushed everyone.
The locker room was almost empty when you (finally) made it back. The showers had stopped running, and the room was a "clean mess", showing that people had been there moments prior. You thought you wouldn't find anyone still in there – you had only come back to take the water bottle you had left behind, but Alexia was sitting on the bench.
She was already showered and changed; her hair was wet, and her game bag was at her feet. She was looking at her phone, but she looked up the moment you came through the door, and your stomach dropped. The expression on her face was not the one you had been bracing for.
It wasn't cold, nor was it the detached expression she had worn while addressing the team. It looked more like relief, but beneath it you could feel the edge of anger that only came from worrying too much.
She snapped your name. "Where the fuck were you?"
You halted, your mouth parting in a surprise "o". "I went to find somewhere to change–"
She stared at you. "It's been thirty minutes."
"I know, I'm sorry." You crossed to your locker, keeping your voice even. "The stadium is... huge..I took a wrong turn, ended up in the wrong section, and I couldn't find my way back."
"You were wandering around a stadium you don't know," she said. "Alone."
"I wasn't wandering, I just—"
"For thirty minutes."
"Alexia." You turned to face her. I didn't mean to disappear. I just went out to change."
"Without telling anyone?" she pressed. "Without telling me?"
You clenched your hands. "Do I need to ask you for permission for every step I take? I'm fine."
"I know you're fine now", she snapped again. It dawned on you then that she must have been sitting here, staring at the door, waiting for you to come back. No shit she was mad. "But I didn't know that for the last thirty minutes because I didn't know where you were!"
"I'm just saying–" she continued, running a hand through her hair. "--that maybe next time you don't disappear for half an hour in a stadium you've never been to! Just… just tell someone where you're going!"
"I didn't think anyone would notice," you said. You meant it practically, logistically, but the words landed differently than you intended. "It was supposed to be quick."
Alexia let out a humourless laugh. "Well, I noticed," Alexia snapped then, taking a step toward you. "I notice everything when it comes to you, as pathetic as it sounds. Just like I noticed you being very comfortable letting Kika hug you!"
You blinked, completely thrown off by the shift of the conversation. "...what?"
"You had no issues letting her touch you," she said, her voice filled with frustration. "You let her hug you; you even leaned into it, but with me? You put up this entire wall the second we are around other people."
You stared at her, your mouth hanging open. "Alexia, what on earth does Kika hugging me have to do with me taking thirty minutes to change?"
"It has nothing to do with it," she blurted out, her cheeks flushing red.
Alexia looked angry, not just at you, but at herself for letting the words slip out. Alexia was usually the emotionally mature one between the two of you, but it seemed like you had a terrifying talent for reducing her to a jealous, flustered teenager.
"Kika gave me a side hug because I was upset. I was upset because you yelled at me," you said. "And that was it! You know we are just friends. You know I like you."
"Y-You just don't talk to me the way you talk to her!"
"Now you are being ridiculous," you said. "You are the person I've opened up to more than anyone in my whole life, and you know that! I've told you that! Me and Kika are friends–"
"And what are you and I?" Alexia cut in, her eyes burning. "We're not far from that either, are we?"
The words hit you like a slap to the face. Now you were angry, too.
"I don't know, Alexia," you said sarcastically, being as dense as her. "Are we? After everything we've talked about these last few days, do you honestly think we are just friends?"
Alexia looked at you, her neck red. Her bottom lip was out, and you could see she was fighting not to cry.
You took a deep breath. "Ale, I don't understand where this is coming from. I don't understand why you are feeling this way."
"Have you ever considered, just for a second, that you don't have to understand everything? Every feeling?" Alexia practically groaned, running her hand through her face out of pure frustration. "Have you ever thought that feelings can be valid even if you don't understand them?! Yo-you are so frustrating! You analyse everything. Why can't you just feel?"
Her words were a knife to an open wound.
"Not everyone is like you, you know?" she continued. "Not everyone can just… bury things over and over again until they disappear, or push stuff down until they convince themselves it's not there anymore!! Some people suffocate if they don't express how they are feeling."
"I am trying," you said, feeling your own throat tighten. "We talked this morning. You told me I have to decide what I want when it comes to you. We literally just had that conversation; now we're suddenly here having a full-blown fight about feelings? I never say anything about you not expressing how you feel! Why are we having this talk?!"
"Because you are doing it again!" Alexia shot back, her voice cracking a bit, but quickly recomposed herself. "This morning I asked you to figure out what you want, and the very first difficult thing that happens, you disappear? You just lock yourself away, run off and don't tell me! You act like I'm the last person you want to be near when you are upset, and that's not how this is supposed to work! If you were upset about the loss, I could have comforted you! Talked to you! But you disappeared!"
"I didn't want to be near you because I thought you were mad at me!" You stood up from the bench, anger and hurt all flaring up at once. "I-I thought you didn't like me anymore."
Alexia stared at you, looking completely thrown off. "And where the fuck did you get that from!?"
"You always wait for me to walk back into the tunnel! An-and today you didn't!" you blurted out, suddenly feeling ridiculous for being upset about that. "After I messed up the game, I just thought you were furious with me. That I was the reason we lost, and you simply didn't want to be anywhere near me anymore.
Alexia groaned.
"I was upset, okay?" her tone softened, the anger slowly dissolving. "I shouldn't have shouted on the pitch, and I should have waited for you. I was just angry about the match. But of course I wanted to be with you. Or what, do you think I only like you because you are some flawless player?"
"I just thought that… if you saw another flaw, you wouldn't want to be with me anymore."
Alexia sighed, looking at you with both exhaustion and tenderness. "Déu meu, we are both so fucked up in the head," she murmured.
"Well, yeah," you muttered.
There was a moment of silence before Alexia spoke.
"I do notice when you're not there."
You looked at her side and watched her speak.
"I-I was upset you left without telling me. We are always the last ones to leave the locker room, but when I got back from the shower, Vicky told me she had seen you leaving with your bag."
You didn't say anything.
"I admit," she continued softly. "Maybe I blew things out of proportion… You don't have to tell me every step you take. I-I just like this little… ritual of ours, and I was upset. I think I'm a little, mhm, sensitive today."
"Well, I'm sorry I left without saying anything," you said. "It wouldn't have hurt to give you a heads up if I really just wanted to change alone. I know I'd be a bit nervous if you were nowhere to be found and your phone had no signal."
"You would?" she asked quickly, her eyes snapping to yours.
You chose your words very carefully, hoping she would understand the weight behind them.
"Of course, baby."
Alexia looked at you before turning to her lap. "...I was jealous of Kika."
A small laugh escaped your mouth before you could stop it. "I noticed. You don't have to be jealous of Kika, you know."
"I know that," she mumbled, her lips forming a subtle pout as she looked away.
You decided not to push her on it.
"I'm sorry I called you frustrating," Alexia added, playing with her fingers. "You're not."
"You don't have to apologise for telling the truth."
Alexia tilted her head. "I wasn't telling the truth."
"I know I'm frustrating," you said softly. "I know I analyse everything so I don't have to sit with how I feel. I'm sorry that hurts you."
"You don't have to apologise for being who you are," Alexia countered immediately.
"Even when the way I am keeps hurting you?"
Alexia let out a long sigh. "No, it's not like that. We are just different people who deal with things differently. It just takes us a little bit of work to meet in the middle, that's all."
You shrugged. Deep down, you still thought you were annoying and frustrating, but didn't have the energy to argue with her any further.
"Did you really think I wouldn't want to be with you just because of a loss?" Alexia's voice came soft into your ears.
Now that the worst of the emotions had settled, it sounded a little ridiculous when spoken aloud. Even though, yeah, you had feelings exactly like that. "Yes. It cost us three points... and you were angry."
"That had nothing to do with how I feel about you," she said firmly.
You sat there listening. You knew it, of course you did, but hearing it and actually understanding were two things very differently. It was like when people tell you that everyone deserved self-compassion: the idea made perfect sense, but applying that same grace to yourself felt unnatural, not right.
"I know," you murmured.
Alexia studied your face. "Do you, torito?"
Before you could create another (logical) defence, Alexia stood up from the bench and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
"I'm going to the bus, yeah?" she said.
"Okay."
A/n: Come talk to me about the chapter!! I love talking about the character hehe!! I'm sorry for any mistakes; I'm running on 4 hours of sleep <3 Personally, I think their relationship will somehow go smoothly from here? I think they both needed to have this conversation so they can understand they have different ways of seeing relationships and people, etc!!
